Demon Jace
by Void.Of.Memory
Summary: What if Jace had demon's blood, like Jace thought he had? What if Jonathan was the 'Angel Boy? A little confusing, I know, but read it and I hope you'll get it. Written from Jace's PoV, starts before City of Bones. First try, so please read and comment.
1. Prologue

**I do not own these characters; they still belong to the tremendous Cassandra Clare.**

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'Jace, get under the stairs' was the last thing my father ever said to me. He shouted things after that, but never said anything to me. He didn't tell me when to come out from under the stairs, or what to do. _It's been a while, and you haven't hear anything, _part of me argued. _Father told me to stay put,_ the other side replied, weakly. But, I was getting hungry, and I had been waiting here for almost 24 hours. I think I could come out now. It had been silent for hours.

I crept slowly towards the door and turned the handle. Walking through the door, I almost slipped on…water? I knelt down for a closer look in the faded light of the moon that was streaming in threw the window. It still looked like dark water in the moonlight, so I reached into my pocket and took out my witchlight. As soon as it flared up, I saw what it was and gagged. Then puked. The smell of blood was over whelming. It was covering my shoes and soaking the hem of my pants. I tried to run away, but stumbled, this time hitting the ground. Right in front of me was one of the men I'd seen from the window right before my father had told me to hide. At least, I think it was. I recognized the man, but my mind was in shock. His dead face mesmerized me, as hard as I tried I couldn't tear my gaze away from the lifeless eyes and the tangled limbs. A loud noise startled me, and with a cry, I tripped my eyes from his face. I got up without opening them, but it didn't help; his face was imprinted on the back of my eyelids, everywhere I looked, his broken gaze tormented me. I ran to the front door, hoping to get away from the pool of blood that was now my front hall. I wrenched open the door, and screamed as strong arms embraced me. I tried to run, but they wouldn't let me go. My knife I had in my belt was just out of reach of my pined arms….

'Stop. Kid, stop. STOP!'

A man's voice calmed me down, but only slightly. My screams rose into hysterics, then into wordless gasping. He was still holding me back me fiercely and I hear the other voices of his comrades, as they went slowly into my house.

'What happened here?'

I looked up at him, untangling myself from his grasp. 'Who are you?' My lip trembled.

The man held me out at arm's length, said 'I'm from the Clave', and then walked into my house. The large estate was tucked away beside a hill, almost in the middle of nowhere. I tried to breath in fresh air, but the smell of blood tainted the air. He came back out, and grabbed my shoulder.

'What's your name, son?'

'Jo-Johnathan Wayland. I-is my father okay?' My voice was shaky, and I hated it. 'Michael, my dad, is he okay?'

The man was looking at me carefully, like he was making sure I wasn't the one who had killed that man in there. Like a 9 year old could have done that, even if I had been trained so well, trained to not feel the pain, trained not to care.

'Son, your father is dead.'

The truth hit me like a brick wall. The man, the dead one. He wasn't an attacker, he was the attacked. He was my father? I looked up at the Shadowhunter in confusion, hoping he wouldn't be looking sad enough to prove my thoughts right. But, the older man had tears in his eyes, and his face was looking upset. I swallowed and tried to hold back tears that should have been coming. But nothing came. I didn't care, after all, then? Father had told me, once in anger, I never cared for him, that I didn't care about what he did for me, how much he had given up to be training me to be the best Shadowhunter….I didn't think he was telling the truth. And now, he was gone, just like that. Why didn't I care? His death was like a fly, annoying, but it could be dealt with. I shook my head, and looked back at the man. A look of fear and disgust crossed his face, and then disappeared. I went to open my mouth to ask who I'd be staying with, when I slid down, gasping, against the wall of the house. I slumped forward, and hit my face on the stone steps. I was only conscious for seconds after that.

I woke to the sound of voices, both sounded angry.

'Inquisitor, you can't expect us to take him in too! We already have three children of our own! We don't need or want anymore.'The woman's voice was loud and motherly, like she was use ordering her kids around. The Inquisitor's voice, I guess, by comparison, was rough and commanding. She was the one giving orders, no doubt.

'Maryse. He's Michael's son. Michael Wayland's son. He was Robert's _Parabati._ You have to do this.' There was no room for compromise in the Inquisitor's voice.

Maryse sighed. She didn't seem to want to do what Inquisitor wanted her to do. 'I can barley care for my own children with the Clave making us diplomats and all; Robert and I will be going to Idiris and staying there more often then we'll be at the Institute. Inquisitor, -'

The Inquisitor cut her off. 'You will do this. Hodge Starckweather will be caring and training your kids, as well as Michael's. This IS happening, so don't try to disagree. '

'Fine.' Maryse spat. 'Any thing else?'

'No, that will be all, thank you.' The Inquisitor spat back, then turned around. She saw I was awake, and nodded.

'Good. Hurry up and get your stuff together. I have some clothes for you, and I washed the clothes you were wearing. You blade is on top.' She nodded again, then promptly left the room, so quickly I didn't even have time to get a good look at her, let alone ask what had just happened. Was I getting….Adopted? I numbly got out of the roughly made bed, a cot with a blanket, and stretched. I felt good, as I always did. My Shadowhunter's sense were working full time right now because I didn't know where I was; they were alert for anything that might try a surprise attack. I walked silently, like Father taught me to, over to my clothes. My _kindjal was_ sitting on top of my generic white shirt and a pair of jeans. Under them seemed to be the clothes that the Inquisitor had gotten for me; another shirt, black this time, for mourning, I suppose and black pants. I put on my white stuff.

After fooling around with my stele for over an hour, the Inquisitor still hadn't come back. I had been drawing words in the air, practicing drawing runes with my right hand; I didn't need to practice with my left as I was perfect at it already. I was getting bored already; there was nothing to do in this room, no books, no interesting things to look at, not even a window. There was, though, a wall covered in mats. I shrugged; if she wasn't coming back anytime soon, might as well train. I started with punches and kicks to the mat, easy stuff I could do in my sleep almost. Next, I picked it up, jumping now and rolling, using other points of my body to stick the wall; elbows, knees, heels. I was sweating by now and took off my shirt as I picked up my _kindjal. _I used every point on the short sword as possible, too. The hilt, the flat edge of the blade, the guard: Father had told me once there were fifteen ways to maim a man with the weapon I held in my hands with out killing them. He expected me to know them all. I did.

I practiced throwing the knife, as well, I already had a crack shot, but better to know I was perfect then to just think it. I stood as far away from the all as I could, then took aim. It hit the wall square in the center, right where I was aiming. Next, I stood at verying places around the room, hitting the same spot again and again. Sometimes it was off, but Father had said to expect that; '_If you hit it every time when you are training_', he told me '_then when you need your throw to be perfect, your skill will fail you'. _I even tried with my eyes closed and wasn't too far off my mark. The wall now had hundreds of little nicks in it from my initial punches and what not, with a big hole going all the way through the mat and into the wall from my target practice. I decided to try throwing my stele, knowing I might be in a situation where it was my only weapon. I readied to throw, but froze almost in right before realizing. Some one was in the doorway. I couldn't see them, but I could feel them standing there, I could hear them breathing, smell the leather of their armor. I half turned, and threw the stele into the wall right beside their head instead. It stuck into the wall, flexing a little from the sudden stop, inches from the Inquisitor's face. She hadn't flinched or moved, just stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me. She yanked it out of the wall and stood there looking over it, as if she was looking for something. She handed it back a few seconds later.

'Is everything ready, we're leaving.' She sounded very disinterested, but there was a note to my voice, like she was nervous of me. Good.

I ignored to and put my shirt back on, sliding my stele into the waistband of my jeans. I picked up the other stuff and walked out the door, not saying a word. She watched me leave to room her eyes on me.

'Oh, and Jonathan, if you ever throw anything at me again, you won't know what to do with a stele, let along throw it like that.'


	2. A New Beginning

**This story does not belong to me, neither do the characters, or anything else about the story. They belong to Cassandra Clare. [But I wish Jace did. ;)]**

**[AN: see if you can find The Fray lyrics in this chapter. They aren't exact to the song, but pretty close. And the lyrics don't belong to me. They belong to The Fray. Duh.]**

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[Jace, age 9]

'So this is where you'll be staying. Pick a room, we have lots.'

The boy, Alec, was being overly helpful. I didn't need someone to tell me where to go; I'd go and take the consequences later, but only if I couldn't charm myself out of trouble first. I turned abruptly into the first room with the door open, startling Alec. Hah. If this kid though he could be a good Shadowhunter, he was in for a wakeup call if he was getting scared by a sudden movement. I threw my bag of stuff on the bed, and looked around the room, then looking pointedly at Alec. He didn't seem to get the hint that I didn't want him in the room anymore. He looked really eager to help me, but I really didn't need his help, so I cleared my throat. He still didn't leave, but smiled and laughed nervously.

'So the kitchen is downstairs. The shower is in there, and I'll be downstairs if you need me.' He was still smiling.

'Like I'll ever need you.' I muttered, just loud enough so he could hear me. The smile dropped of his face faster than a vampire hit with holy water. I could see tears coming up in his eyes, and his hands were shaking. I tisked, and went to my stuff to put it away. Alec ran from the room, almost crying. That boy was going to not only get himself killed, but others, too. I wouldn't be one of them; I was too good to be killed. I put all my stuff away, and sat on the bed; there hadn't been much to put away. I toyed with the ring on my left hand's ring finger, thinking. It had been a gift from my father for my ninth birthday. It was a pretty thing, solid steel, with the Wayland 'W' on it and, curiously, stars. I'd never asked why the Wayland family's crest was a group of stars, but there was no way I could ask now, unless my father came back from the grave. I barked a short laugh, then clamped my hand over my mouth. Why was that funny? I should be hoping for him to come back, not finding the idea laughable, foolish, even. What didn't I care? I knew I should care, but I felt nothing. No longings for him, no regrets of things I never said. I had to clear my head. I had to go out and fight something, whatever. I grabbed my knives and hurried out of the room. I took the hall way running, looking through every door that could hold the training room. Finally, I found it, not a moment too soon. I ripped amour off the wall, knocking over a stand of feather staves in the whirlwind I was making, trying to escape the non-existent feeling.

But how could you run from something that wasn't there?

[Jace, age 13]

'Mayrse.' I called out, from the dark entrance of the library door way. 'You wanted to talk to me?'

Mayrse, standing at the table I'd gotten use to seeing with Hodge sitting behind, jumped a little. She still wasn't use to me being around I guess. 'Jonathan! You…You walk so silently. Yes, I do want to talk to you. Sit down. ' She sat down Hodge's chair, while I grabbed one of the arm chairs and lifted it over, closer to the desk. 'Now, I know you've had a hard time with everything, but Jonathan, it's almost four years, and you haven't said a word. Do you want to tell me- do you want to talk about what happened to your father?' She was very hesitant as she spoke, like I would lash out at her if she made me angry. I had done it enough to Alec and Isabelle; she had probably learned from them.

I shook my head. 'No, I don't want to talk about it. You ask me all the time. I just don't like talking about, all right?'

She quickly nodded, and held up her hands in retreat. I smiled slightly; I had power of this "mother" of mine. 'Well, if you don't want to talk about that, is there something you want to talk about? You seem….distant. Is there anything I can do to help or make you more comfortable?'

I thought for a bit, leading her on. 'Well…' She looked very relieved and hopeful, like I would actually tell her if something was bothering me. Stupid woman. I was almost thirteen; I think I had a right to be distant. Weren't all teenagers like this? Something was bothering me, but nothing I'd be telling her. 'I've been really bored lately, so you should send me on more missions.'

Mayrse smiled lightly. 'Of course,' She paused 'Can I call you John?'

Well, that came out of nowhere. She had never been obvious about not liking my name, but why this all of a sudden? 'No. My name is Jonathan, not John.'

She frowned. I guess she really wanted a nickname for me. 'What about Johnny? Jack? What's your middle name?'

Why was she so insistent about this? Mayrse seemed really in to giving people "pet names", if you will. Alec's name was really Alexander, and Isabelle was usually Izzy. I'd heard Robert being called Bert once, but that was it. Alec's father was big and imposing, like my father had been. I don't think he would condone pet names. I didn't really mind my name, so I didn't want a nickname, but might as well humor her.

'Never Johnny, and no way to Jack.' I then though about the second part of her question, about my middle name. I had though I never had a middle name, but I once come across "Jonathan Christopher" in my father's journal, I had assumed it was my middle name. ' Christopher. My middle name is Christopher.'

Mayrse's eyes glazed over. 'Jonathan Christopher? Jocelyn's child….' She shook herself out of her revive, and looked back at me. 'Well, how about I call you Jace?'

I considered it. The name brought up something, some thing was scratching it's way out, something I wanted to forget about….I tried to brush it off by trying to seem nonchalant about it, so I shrugged. 'Sure, I guess. It's better than your other suggestions.'

Mayrse immediately let out a breath of relief. She smiled and stood up. 'Well, then Jace, how about you and Alec go and deal with a demon that's been eating cats down in Brooklyn?'

I nodded, and smiled. But the more I though about it...It wasn't as bad as the other names and it had certain elegance if you will. Jace. It was only one syllable, four letters, but I liked it. It seemed to suit me much better than Jonathan ever did. But, something was off. I wanted to get excited about my new name, but I couldn't. I felt the same terrible feeling welling up as before. As much as I tried to like that name, as much as I could tell it fit, nothing would come. No feeling of acceptance, no excitement. I turned and hurried my way out of the library.

Once again, I was running from nothing.

[Jace, age 16]

'Alec, come on! You're slowing us all down!' I yelled, not nicely, to Alec, who was lagging behind Isabelle and I. He was dragging his feet and he didn't even seem alert. We might have been in an ally where the only entrances was where we were going down to, having climbed down from the roof, but he should have been watching for anything. Isabelle wasn't nearly as hard on Alec as I was, but he seemed so distracted lately. He and Isabelle were always talking about something, and he seemed terrified whenever I asked. He always came up with a transparent lie about what he was talking about and looked more frightened then a rabbit under the wheel of a semi.

Alec lifted his head. 'Sorry, Jace, I'm just really tired.' He stifled a yawn, and brushed his hair out of his face. He blinked very slowly, then 'Izzy, look out!'

I whipped around, to find the demon that we were hunting. It was slimy, and the rough shape of a cat. Its ears were tall and pointed, its paws sheathed sharp claws. A _panthesin_. The thing's teeth must have been four inches long and it was pouncing right at Isabelle.

I didn't even think. I jumped to intercept the demon and got there just as it was going to hit Isabelle in the face. I had gotten my dagger out, and named it in the air. I shoved it into the thing's face, right between the eyes. Its momentum, though, kept it going and it knock both of us over. The thing disintegrated into an acid, and me being on top of Isabelle, took most of it. I felt it biting at my wrists and face, but it didn't make it through the black leather all Shadowhunters wear into battle. Alec, had actually run over, so he must have been worried. He had his stele out all ready to go, but Isabelle and I made no point in moving. We were breathing into each other's faces, and her eyes were still frightened.

'Thank you Jace.' She started to almost sob. 'Thank you, thank you.'

I smiled a little, then cocked my head. My eyes were wondering, thinking, asking. Isabelle was looking at me with the same look, so I leaned in, and kissed her. Her lips tasted like vanilla lip-gloss and sweat. I pushed harder, opening her lips with mine, and slid my tongue over her teeth. She tried to pull back, but as she was on the ground, there was nowhere to move to. I felt like laughing; she was so scared, I could feel her terror. I felt like ripping her apart, destroying her, snuffing out that delicate balance that is life. She squeaked, and I felt disgusted, enough that I pulled myself away from her. I pushed myself away from her, backing against a wall. She looked scared again,more than before, and Alec looked furious.

'What the Hell was that, Jace?' He yelled. I didn't know myself. I had tried to tell myself she was my sister, that we were pretty much related, that I've been living with her for seven years. But I couldn't deny the fact that I had been harboring feeling like the ones that has just almost over taken me, for years. I could feel the same thing for Alec, but it was different and not as strong. I couldn't keep it from myself any longer; what I had just done to Isabelle was proof. I was longing, _longing,_ for Isabelle.

She should have been like my sister, but I had been wanting her for so long. Bile rose in my throat as I recognized the fact that I wanted nothing more in this moment to kiss her until she broke. I squeezed my eyes shut, and rubbed them with the heels of my hands. I could hear Alec and Isabelle's rugged breathing, I could feel the heat coming off their bodies, I could still smell the subtle smell of demons, which, for a reason that bothered me, seemed so senses were on fire, like always, my reflexes faster than anyone's, but I paid for it with this messed up sense of feeling and emotions. Carefully, I peeled myself from the wall, walked cautiously around Alec and Isabelle, and started towards the alley's exit.

'Were are you going Jace?' I could hear the hurt in Alec's voice, but it didn't seem to be in accordance with the fact I had just kissed Isabelle. There was something else to it.

'The subway, Alec. I killed it. We're going.' I spat back, my anger tasting sharp and metallic in my mouth. Why was I angry? I wasn't angry with myself, just disgusted. _Maybe I'll grow out of this_. I thought to myself desperately, _Maybe this is just a teenager thing. _I almost managed to convince myself of that fact until I got to the subway. As soon as I sat down, and noticed one of the few demons that could blend in to the human world by changing their appearance, I felt sick again. The familiar feeling of kinship came again. It happened every time I was near or around a demon.

I waited until I was back in my room, in the Institute, until I tried to put everything together, but everything was too screwed up. My head was spinning, as I tried to sort through the feeling that had been bombarding me for years, and now, had taken over me long enough to...Kiss... soon as that hit home, that I had kissed her, really kissed her, I threw up, on the floor. Good thing it wasn't carpet. I spent the rest of the night puking my guts out, as my head kept on whirling around with all these horrible thoughts about the feelings I got when I was near Isabelle, near Alec, near anyone. But especially the feeling I got from the demons.

But I must be mistaking the feeling for something else. I couldn't be related to a demon. Could I?


	3. Jace's start to the City of Bones

**I do not, still own these characters; they still belong to the tremendous Cassandra Clare.**

**[Author's note: If you see any mistakes, feel free (it would actually be much appreciated) to point them out when you comment.]**

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Like every morning, before I did anything else, I got up and looked in the mirror. What I saw there was something I'd been seeing ever since I'd started this ritual last year. My hair was light gold, curly and just past my ears. My face was easy on the eyes to say the least, my skin a pale golden color. But, I didn't care about that. I didn't need to see that, I knew what it looked like. No, I looked in the mirror every morning to examine my eyes.

The first morning I'd done this was purely by accident: I had walked past the mirror and noticed something about my eyes I had been sure was different. My eyes had seemed to be darker then they had been the day before. I had wondered if it had something to do with what had happened last week, with Isabelle, and I had shuddered. I had then kept it up throughout the next eleven months, looking every day, until I couldn't deny it any longer; my eyes, which had once been amber flecked brown, were now almost black. At the end of the year, they were as black as the night, as black as the gapping maw of a ravenger demon, and just as dead looking. They held no reflection of the light, no sparkle of life. They were just flat black disks at had become so unfamiliar.

Along with my eyes, I had noticed other things, too. My longing for destruction had become worse now, to the point where I almost couldn't stand in the same room as Isabelle. I felt nothing for Mayrse or Robert, when they were here, but Alec, too, brought up some disturbing destroy to hurt, to ruin, to wreck. As if the thoughts weighed me down, I fell back on to my bed and held my eyes shut. My head was once again swirling with renegade desires that I couldn't control. They were the only thing I felt now. I didn't feel happiness at killing a demon, like I had before, or the pleasure of fighting with Alec and Isabelle. No, now it was more like I got my pleasure from watching Isabelle get hurt, or exploiting Alec's weakness that he displayed so obviously. I didn't feel sadness or excitement anymore; I felt anger and pleasure, but almost nothing else.

I wasn't sure if Alec and the others had noticed, but they seemed to regard me now with a certain weariness; Alec, because I so readily made fun of him, Isabelle because of what I did to her last year. I pulled off my PJ shirt and put on a light grey long-sleeved. Hodge had said he wanted us to do something today, but I wasn't really feeling up to it. I hadn't had a lot of sleep last night as I'd been trying to find a way to change my eye color back to what it had been, with Runes and potions. And, when I had fallen asleep, I'd dreamed that I was back in Idiris, standing on top of the towers of Alicante. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but everywhere I looked, demons would pop up out of the ground and ruin everything. I tried looking away from the houses and people, but demons would come out there, too. I'd panicked, until I had shut my eyes. As soon as I did that, the demons stopped coming. As soon as I shut my eyes, I realized the demons were being summoned from me. I was the one bring them to the perfect city of my childhood.

Alec's knocking on the door interrupted my dream analyzation. 'Jace, are you coming?' He sounded really hesitant, but it was probably because he didn't want to make me angry. 'Hodge wants to see us downstairs.'

'Sure, come in will you? You know I hate talking though doors.' I called back, while taking off my pajama bottoms and grabbed my jeans. Alec walked in the door just as I was going to do them up, and he stopped and gaped. I frowned, but looked down, and guessed what he was thinking; he though I was undoing my pants, not doing them up. I chuckled, and looked up at Alec slyly, jokingly. His face was pretty comical; his faced was pained, but also surprised. Alec slowly reached behind him and shut the door. His face was now cautious and almost as sly as mine had been. What was he doing? He never had done something like this before, and this wasn't him at all. We had been in the same room lots of times with me only half dressed. Alec took a step closer to me and seemed to appraise me with his eyes. I did the same, cocked my head, and looked at him down the length of my nose, which was hard, as he was taller than me. I was doing this all knowingly; nothing was controlling me, there wasn't voice in my head telling me with was wrong. In fact, my mind was telling me this was all right, that I should keep going. I took a step closer to him and rested my arm of his shoulder, my fingers brushing his exposed collarbone. There was the electric static from where my bare hand touched the bare neck the collar of his shirt exposed. I shut my eyes for a moment, taking my arm off of Alec's lean body to collect my thoughts; what was I doing? I opened my eyes, looking to the floor, but when I looked back up, Alec was standing in the door way again, like none of that had happened. It must have, though, as Alec looked really flushed, and nervous. He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but snapped it shut and walked off.

I got to the library after digging through the fridge in the kitchen; if I had already eaten, I wouldn't have to deal with Isabelle's cooking. So when I arrived with my hands full of last night's Chinese, I found Isabelle glaring at me. Apparently, by the look on Hodge's face, Isabelle had tried to make -I sniffed the air -scrambled eggs. Hodge's plate was almost clean; I cannot imagine why he would go through the torture of eating a full plate of Isabelle's cooking. I sat down in my favorite chair and started to eat, knowing the whole time Isabelle was giving me murderous looks. I glanced over at her, and found her look was much more vicious then it was most of the time I didn't eat her cooking, which was often. What had I done now? Alec wasn't to be found, so had Alec told his sister what I had almost done to him, the same thing I had almost done to her? She had been more scared than mad when I'd kissed her, but Alec had been really angry then. Was it a sibling thing, to be angry from someone who was too scared to be mad? I shrugged it off, put my plate aside and leaned in to listen to Hodge.

'Who- I mean, what do you want me to kill this time?' I corrected myself as I accidently, again, gave the demons a personality and a name. 'Where is it, and when?'

Hodge shook his head. 'Always so eager, Jace. You'll have to wait this for a bit, though. The THREE of you, wherever Alec went, will be going to Pandemonium and you'll be taking a care of a demon that's been posing as a human for a while, and it's killed two people. You'll find him in the club around ten thirty, so go around nine to get look around.' He held up his hand, as I went to interrupt. 'I know, you've been there before, but the mundanes like to change their buildings ever so often, so you don't know if it's still the same.'

I held back a sigh. I hated 'casing the joint'. I just wanted to go there, kill the bastard that was making trouble, and go. No need to spend more time in the mundane would then I needed. I grimaced as I though of how long this might really take. Their world brought out something in me, a feral emotion that I hated. The mundies' ease with emotion was too much for me to handle, I guess. I'd held it back until now, but I don't know when, not if, I'd snap; each time I went out there, it got a little harder. 'I'll…go look for Alec, then I guess.'

Isabelle gave a little scream and struggled to stand. 'No! I-I'll find him! He might have gone outside.'

Then she ran off, with me standing here with nothing to do. I looked at Hodge, who shrugged. I growled and made to leave the room, but Hodge scrambled around his desk and handed me a full teacup. 'Finish this, and put it in the sink, will you?' He insisted forcibly 'Don't make a cup of tea you can't finish, how many times have I told you?'

I paused, not remembering bring a cup of tea into the room. Hodge though, was nothing if not clean, and fair, so he wouldn't make me finish a cup of tea that wasn't mine, let alone put it away. I sighed and finished it, thinking maybe my memory was slipping. I had been thinking about many things this morning, maybe it had just slipped my mind. I know I had been in the kitchen, maybe I had made the tea and brought it to the library and not touched. I finished it and put it in the sink, like I had been told, wishing for more of what ever tea that was. It had been delicious and a calm I hadn't felt since I was young was settling over me.

I was making my way up to me room again, when Church appeared in front of me. I hated that cat. He was always running from me, and the one time I had picked him up, he'd bitten me. Although, karma must love me, 'cause the cat got sick for a week after that. I had tried to befriend him once, by feeding him, but he wouldn't touch the food I had put out, so I just stopped feeding him for a week. To get back at me, he had ripped up and peed on my favorite shirt. He's stayed away from me after that, but every time I saw him sleeping, I move him out side and give him a little kick, just enough to wake him up. He hated being outside, and often I'd leave him out in the rain for hours. I think the cat still hasn't forgiven me for the last time; it had been almost a whole twelve hours before anyone had noticed his absence.

This time, though, he must have sensed my bad mood, that had turned suddenly as I though of Church and all the things we had done to each other, as he slinked off before I could even insult him, his stupid bell dinging as he went. I scowled and continued on my way.

I hadn't a clue what I was going to do when I got to my room, but after yawning wide enough to swallow an apple whole, I decided to get some more sleep. I wasn't one to take naps, because I usually got nightmares, but I was suddenly too tired to do much else. I didn't bother to change again; I just threw myself on top of my covers and shut my eyes. Sleep hit me as soon as I relaxed, for so I'd though.

I felt like I'd fallen asleep, but I was suddenly wide-awake. I could feel the presence of someone else in my room. I tensed unnoticeably, my muscles getting ready to react at the slightest of movements towards my bed. I listened for a second longer, then relaxed; the person in my room was no threat to me. The soft, but nervous footsteps, the ragged breathing that got steadily more uneven the closer towards me it got; those little observations all pointed to Alec. I let him get to the head of my bed, just to let him think he snuck up on me. He paused in front of me, and I could feel his wildly beating heart through vibrations coming from his wrist that was resting lightly against the sheets. He reached out, maybe to shake me awake or maybe he was going to cut off all my hair; I couldn't tell as my head was faced away from him, and my eyes were still closed. I knew my room was pitch black when my room light and the hall light were off; there weren't any windows to bring other light into the room, but that wouldn't have been a problem for my eyes. I have been able to see in the dark for years. Most Shadowhunters can, a little, but my night vision was almost as good as my regular vision. I waited until Alec's hand was right above my head…that's when I struck, grabbing his wrist. I pulled him closer, and spun him around, so he was on the bed next to me. Using his weight, I pushed myself up, and, in less then three seconds, we had switched places.

I smiled wickedly at him in the dark, though I knew he couldn't really see it. 'What's with the sneaking, Alec?' I asked, smirking.

'Ah, well..I- I though, um, well.' He sputtered. 'Actually, you, well, um WE, uh.'

'ALEC!' I hissed, 'Spit it out!'

'It's time to go,' he got out miserably, after a few more seconds of stuttering. 'Isabelle told me to get you. We still have about an hour until we have to leave, but we should start getting ready.'

I frowned. Had I been sleeping, then? What had stopped the nightmares, the bad dreams that always plagued my sleep? I helped Alec up, and stretched. 'Let's go, then. Do we have a plan?'

He shook his head, let me pass though the door first, then walked out, shutting the door as he went. We went through a possible strategy that involved lots of yelling and black eye liner, but figured Isabelle wouldn't want to dress up like a hobo. When we got the weapons room, Isabelle was already there, marking herself and gathering up weapons. Her whip was curled around her forearm and bracelets jangled on her wrists. Alec went to work right away, getting his stele and marking the places on Isabelle's back she couldn't reach.

'Alec, will you do the honors?' I asked after he had finished Isabelle.

He frowned. 'Aren't you already good enough to mark yourself?' He asked.

That puzzled me. Usually he asked if he could mark me; I never had to ask. 'Well, yes, but as perfect as I am, I can't reach my back, you know that Alec.'

He sighed and gestured for me to take off my shirt. 'Damn.' I muttered, and Alec looked up, 'I shoulda figured you would get something out of this.' Alec looked very alarmed with that comment, but I smirked to let him know that I was kidding. He didn't say anything after that; just went straight to work marking my shoulder blades and lower back. When he had finished I thanked him, but didn't say anything back. I gave up on getting any more words out of him and went back to my room to put on my armor. I didn't have much time, but it didn't take any time at all to put on. I ran back to my room, just in case; I hated being late for anything.

My shirt was already off, and I stripped off my jeans before I was even in my room. I pulled out my black leather Shadowhunter armor from the closet and started to put it on. Midway through putting on the pants, I frowned. It was a little tight; I mean it was suppose to be, but not this tight. I managed to get myself in my now too small armor, and grabbed any knives that I could see laying around my room. I jogged back down the weapons room; putting on my armor had taken more time that I'd thought. I was tarrying more than I should have been, though; I didn't want to be in a room with just Isabelle and Alec. The savage feeling inside was a little much, almost too much, when I was in the same room as them. I hadn't felt it 5 minuets ago, when I had been discussing strategies with Alec, but maybe it was something I noticed, only when I wasn't distracted. Maybe it was the dregs of sleep that stayed the feelings. I don't know, and don't care if it's only a temporary solution.

'So what's the plan?' I asked as I walked in. 'Are we taking a cab or riding the subway?'

'No,' Isabelle shook her head. 'We'll just take the subway, it gets us right there and it's a lot cheaper.'

I nodded; it made sense. I picked a stele to mark myself to mark myself to hide myself from the mundies; Alec wouldn't have done it, as we didn't know what the plan was. I drew on the mark, flinching a bit at the pain.

Others say that the stele burns a little, stings. They must have a higher pain threshold than me, then, as the stele burned when I used it like I was holding a hot brand to my arm. I like to think of my pain threshold as less of a threshold and more of a tastefully decorated foyer, but everyone else's threshold must be more a grand and elegant entrance with a spiral staircase. Even holding a stele bothered me, which is why I usually left Alec do it; it hurts a lot more if I was holding the stele when I was getting marked. I finished the mark, clenching my fists, as the burn slowly dissipated. Alec and Isabelle had been putting things away and finishing up with their weapons, so I didn't have to clean up much. The plan had been discussed, and Isabelle had everything she needed; she was the key to our plan, knowing that the demon was taking the shape of a guy. We were finally all ready to go.

Alec and I were standing in the subway, looking in different direction, both with looks of concentrated puzzlement on our faces.

'Which way is it?' Alec asked to no-one.' East or West on the blue Line?'

'Is it even the blue line?' I asked back.

We turned both to Isabelle at the same time, hoping she would know.

'Honestly,' she muttered, 'don't you remember the last time we look this route?'

She shook her head again and took off to the train that was just pulling up. We followed her, making sure not to jostle too many people. We were invisible to them, we had even jumped over the barrier so that we didn't have to pay, but we didn't want to cause a scene with someone yelling ghosts. We got on the train with no trouble, and Alec and I took the first open seats together. Isabelle had to sit behind us, but she wasn't close enough she could hear us.

'How much you wanna bet Isabelle us on the wrong train?' I whispered to Alec, trying to cheer him up, for once.

He smiled but didn't say anything.

It turns out that Isabelle did know where she was taking us, as we got off right beside the club. We only had to walk for a block or so, and we were at the front door. It wasn't open yet, so I started to bang on the door. A tall, wide and bald guy with a neck tattoo and a shirt with the Pandemonium logo on it opened it almost right away.

'We're not open yet. Leave.' He growled

I sighed. Frank, who had worked here before, had known us on sight, so we didn't have to worry. This was a new guy, and I almost didn't remember the entry phrase.

'Just let us in. I think you can guess who were are and what we want.' Alec came to my rescue, which was surprising; he usually didn't say anything.

The bouncer scowled and stepped back to let us in. 'I still want the password.' He muttered.

Alec sighed, exasperated. 'Fine! "By the Clave who governs us, they demand our entry!"' He quoted angrily. 'Happy now?'

The bouncer backed off. Alec was muttering to himself and stalked off to check out the perimeter. I looked at Isabelle, who shrugged, and followed Alec. I went in the opposite direction and looked in all the rooms; the bathrooms, the "Staff Only" room and the broom closet. I was nothing if not thorough.

We hung around for a while, making sure there wasn't anything suspicious. When the club started to open, Isabelle when to put on her dress: it was white, long lacey and covered all her skin just enough that her marks wouldn't be seen until she wanted them to be. Her demon-sensing pendant was around her neck and glowing faintly, even now. Alec was going over everything again with the Sensor, just to make sure there even _was_ a demon romping around here. And, by the time Isabelle, Alec and I were in place, the club was already in full swing. The club looked like a dream, with the multicolored lights shining against the curtain of fog. People were thrashing around of the floor, their faces transformed into monsters with shadows thrown into wide relief. Their sweat got me drunk and the feeling was dizzying. I had to hold on to the wall so that I wouldn't fall over from the sheer amount of people in the room, from the savage feeling. If I though being in a room with just Isabelle, even Isabelle and Alec was bad, I was stupid. This was insane. I had to squeeze my wrist to keep myself from screaming out. Something in arm cracked and gave way. The pain didn't help for once. Luckily, Alec shook me on the shoulder and pointed out at Isabelle who had a boy falling off of her. I smiled, and gestured with my head for Alec and I to follow them. I un-sheathed one of my knives, the _kindjal_, and followed them into the 'Staff Only" room I had check out earlier. Not much in there besides wires and cords. Isabelle was smiling, whispering 'Got you.' when we entered. We helped her tie him up to a conveniently placed pole with piano wire and were interrogating him, when I felt a small presence seem to entre the room. It didn't feel human, but it wasn't demon either. It might have been a fly, so I ignored it.

'So are there more of you? You haven't told us.' I demanded.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' The boy, now that I could see him in the light, had blue hair and too green eyes. Shape shifter, no doubt.

'He means other demons.' Alec shot in, still annoyed. 'You do know what a demons is, don't you?' He asked bitterly sarcastic.

The boy tried to look away, but his face was too tight again the pillar.

'Ah, demons.' I drawled, trying to annoy him in spilling something. 'You disgusting worms that come crawling out of other worlds to-'

'Jace! We don't need a lesson in demonology. ' Isabelle interrupted

I nodded, but felt glad she had interrupted me. I felt like I had been insulting myself. 'So are you going to start talking? Or should I do something to entice you?'

'I could give you information,' He whispered. 'I know where Valentine is.'

Alec glanced at me. 'Kill it, he's lying.'

Isabelle nodded' He's just toying with us to be let go.'

I raised my blade right above where his heart should have been. This was usually when they started to talk.

He didn't disappoint. 'Valentine is back!' He gasped. 'I can tell you, all the Infernal Worlds know it! They- I- can tell you where he-'

That drove me mad when they claimed to know where Valentine was. 'By the Angle, every time one of you bastards are caught, you claim to know where he is. Valentine is dead!' I shouted, enraged. I could feel Alec and Isabelle willing me to calm down. 'Valentine is in Hell. And you can join him there!' I plunged my knife down, aiming right into the boy chest, when a voice came out of nowhere.

'Stop!' It shouted, coming from a small, red haired girl, with wide green eyes and a wild expression. Her presence must have been the one I had felt earlier, and it surprised me so much, I missed and hit the pole, and my knife flew out of my hand.

'Stop!' She shouted again, her voice smooth and scared, but very loud for her size. 'You can't do this.'

It wasn't her sudden appearance that got me, nor her beautiful face or the way she was so brave to yell at someone with a knife.

It was the fact she could see us.

And even more so the fact that she seemed to look right through me.


	4. Saving Clary Part 1

**Jace, Clary, the plot, Simon nor Eric's bad poetry belong to me. The are owned by Cassandra Clare. I only hope I can be half as good as her.**

* * *

_What was I doing here?_ I though to myself, as I sat, wincing at the bad poetry, in Java Jones. _Hodge said to get her, so why haven't I yet?_

I was sitting as far back as I could get, in a black leather chair, behind a plant. The girl had seen me last night and I didn't want her to see me before I wanted her to. She was talking with the boy, also from last night. Simon, I think. It was hard to keep a straight face while watching him talk to her. She was either exceptionally oblivious to the fact he seemed to be in love with her, or terribly mean. She didn't seem the type to be so cruel to anyone, though, as she had stopped me from killing that demon last night. I closed my eyes, and last night came flooding back.

[Flashback]

_Stop it! She yelled. _

_I turned around, my blade hitting the pillar in the last second. _

'_Who's this? And what is she doing here?' Alec hissed._

'_How would we know, Alec? We've never seen her before.' Isabelle retorted. ' Maybe you should ask.' _

'_I don't care who she is.' I interrupted before Alec could speak again. 'I want to know why she can see us.' _

'_Of course I can see you.' The girl looked confused and angry. 'I'm not blind, you know.' _

'_You are.' I replied mildly, pulling my knife out of the wall. 'You just aren't aware of it.' I slid my knife back into its sheath. 'You better leave, before anything happens.'_

'_I'm not going anywhere.' She spat back, 'If I do, you'll kill him.' _

'_Correct.' I admitted, taping a rhythm on the handle of my knife. 'But what's it to you?'_

'_Be-Because-' She stammered, 'You can't go around killing people!' _

'_Ah-HAH!' I smirked. 'I can't go around killing people.' I pointed at my prisoner. 'This is no person.' She looked over at the thing and her mouth pulled down at the corners, but her eyes looked were still smiling. 'It may looks like a person, but this is a monster from nightmares.' _

'_Jace.' Isabelle whispered to my back. 'That's enough.' _

'_You're crazy.' The girl took a step back. 'I've called the police, you know. They'll be here anytime.' _

'_She's lying.' Alec tried to sound exasperated with the girl, but there was too much doubt in his voice. 'Jace, do you-'_

_I don't know why he stopped, but when something hit my side like a sack of bricks, I got my answer. The demon must have been loosening the piano wire this whole time. I didn't think of much else, as I had to work on getting him off of me. We wrestled on the ground for a bit, as I didn't have my weapon out. He got on top of me and stared at me hungrily. _

'_So this is why you never stole any girls. Well, it certainly explains a lot. But, then why did you go for Isabelle?' I asked in an infuriatingly calm voice, with a huge smirk on my face. The thing's eyes widened and his face twisted with face. Alec and Isabelle came running over just as he went to slash out at my face. I jerked under him and spun him around, like I had Alec, before. Now I was the one on top. _

'_Just the way I like it.' I was still smirking, which got the thing even angrier. It snarled, and lashed out, and managed to bite my hand. How the Hell it did that, I'll never know. I whipped out my knife and held it in his face. 'That better not leave a scar.' I threatened. _

_But, the demon was so busy looking surprised and cowardly, it didn't even notice. 'My Lord...' It whimpered. 'I'm sorry. I though you were a Nephilim. I didn't know it was you. You've changed.' _

_I didn't even say anything. It must have just been babbling on to save its self. I just stabbed it, clean through the chest, and watched in gratification as its blood bubbled up around the blade. He shook once, and his body started to fold around on its self, until there was nothing left and my knife clanged again the floor. _

_As I picked it up, I heard Isabelle's whip slice through the air. The girl gasped as it wrapped around her wrist. 'Stupid Mundie.' Isabelle hissed, 'You could have gotten Jace killed!' The girl struggled and her face was contorted with pain. Her pain cut me, for some reason. I winced as she did, and reached out to help her-…_

_[End of Flashback]_

'The memory ended as something cut through my thoughts. The voice of the girl, Clary, seemed to be directed in my general direction. Was she talking to me? I whipped around to see if she was, but quietly hunkered down when I saw she was talking to another girl. I rose out my chair, and snuck to a closer couch. Simon came back, and they started talking again. I listen for a bit, and laughed as I heard what Simon was trying to tell Clary. She just wasn't getting it, as obvious as Simon was being. I couldn't help it but laugh. I managed to conceal it behind a fake cough, but Clary still heard it. She turned. And I panicked.

I never panicked, but I didn't know what else to do. I just raised me hand, keeping my face emotionless, and walked out. I didn't need to look, to see if she was following; I could hear her excuses to Simon, her feet tapping delicately on the tiles of the floor. I pushed open the door and waited outside for her in the alley next to the shop. I leaned against the wall, relaxing my heart that had begun to race when Clary had looked at me. I took my Sensor out of my pocket, just as she was coming out the door, to make sure it hadn't looked like I was waiting for her. When the bell rang out her exit from the coffee shop, I looked up, put my Sensor away in back in my shirt's pocket, and tried to look surprise, like I hadn't been expecting she would follow. It still caught me off guard, so I merely said the first thing that came to mind.

'Your friend's poetry is terrible.' And that was a terrible way to start a conversation. Usually, my charm was already working, and I just had to stand there and look uninterested. Other people always started the conversation, and I always replied. Now I was just making things awkward.

'What?' Clary asked. She had the right to be confused; my comment had come out of nowhere.

'I said your friend's poetry is terrible. It sounded like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random.' It was a stupid thing to say, and I had already said it once. I hated repeating myself.

It seemed to make Clary furious, though. 'I don't care about Eric's poetry. I want to know why you are following me.'

I half smiled. She had a temper, this one. 'Who said I was following you?'

'Nice try. And you were eavesdropping, too. Do you want to tell me what this is about, or should I just call the police?' Her voice was usually light, but her angry made it deeper, and darker.

'And tell them what?' I demanded maliciously, 'That invisible people are bothering you? Trust me, little girl, the police aren't going to arrest someone they can't see.' I couldn't give away that fact I had remembered her name, it would seem….Stalkerish.

'I told you before, my name is not "Little girl". She growled through her teeth. 'It's Clary.'

'I know,' My voice had come out before I could even stop it. 'Pretty name. Like the herb, clary sage. In old days people though eating the seeds would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Just like last night, when I'd asked if she had walked with vampires or seen demons, she denied any involvement with the Shadow World.

'You don't know much, do you?' I brought a lazy look into my eyes, like I dealt with this everyday. Maybe if I seemed like I did, she would listen to me. 'You seem to be a mundane like and other mundane, yet you can see me. It's a conundrum.'

'What's a mundane?' She asked. She didn't seem to be angry any more, just curious.

'Someone of the human world. Some one like,' I paused, 'You.'

'But you're human.' She insisted.

'I am,' I conceded. 'But not like you.' I didn't bother to hide it. She could see me, and that meant she was a part of this world now.

'You think you're better.' She was angry again. 'That's why you were laughing at us.'

'I was laughing at you because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited,' I retorted. 'And because your Simon is one of the most mundane mundanes I've ever encountered. And because Hodge though you might be dangerous, but if you are, you certainly don't know it.' I had to work to close my mouth slowly. I had said more than I had wanted to.

'I'm dangerous?' Clary's voice echoed mine, even with the same inflictions. It was like she had memorized me voice. 'I saw you kill someone last night. I saw you drive a knife up under his ribs, and, -' She stopped abruptly, like the rest of her sentence had frightened her. I suddenly wanted to protect her from whatever evils I had invited into her life.

'I may be a killer,' I replied emotionless, 'but I know what I am. Can you say the same?'

'I'm an ordinary human being, just like you said. Who's Hodge?' She was quick to change the subject, like maybe; just maybe, she had guessed she wasn't an ordinary human being.

'My tutor.' I killed the topic of who Hodge was more effectively than I killed demons. 'And I wouldn't be so quick to brand myself as ordinary, if I were you.' I leaned closer to her, breathing in her scent of history and paint. 'Let me see your right hand.'

'My right hand?' Her voice echoed mine again. 'If I show you my hand, will you leave me alone?'

'Certainly.' I knew I was lying, and amusement colored my voice.

Clary's hand crept out from her side. It was pale and delicate in the fading light, and her knuckles were painted with freckles and flecks of paint. Her expression was slightly guarded and embarrassed. I saw nothing, so I turned it over, not expecting anything, just wanting to hold her hand longer. 'Nothing.' I muttered, and the relief of her face fueled my disappointment. 'You're not left-handed, are you?'

'No. Why?' She saw curious again.

I reluctantly released it with a shrug. 'Most Shadowhunter children get Marked on their right hands- or left, if they're left handed like I am- when they're still young. It's a permanent Rune that lends an extra kill with weapons.' Her blank look told me she needed a visual, so I held up my hand.

'I don't see anything.' Her voice had me think she though this was a joke.

'Let your mind relax,' I suggested, wanting this to work. I hated being wrong. 'Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting or something to rise to the surface of water.'

'You're crazy,' She dismissed, but let herself relax. She had been really tense. She gazed at my hand, holding it in her stare. There was a sharp intake of breath, and her body jerked away from me a slight bit. It bothered me. 'A tattoo?'

I knew it. I knew she could see it, and I let it show on my face. 'I thought you could do it. And it's not a tattoo- it's a Mark. They're Runes, burned into our skin.'

'They make you handle weapons better?' The disbelief was strong in her voice.

'Different Marks do different things. Some are permanent but the majority vanish when they've been used'

'That's why your arms aren't all linked up today?' She seemed to be asking a question, but it sounded like a statement. 'Even when I concentrate?'

'That's exactly why.' I knew she could figure this out, with my fabulous explanation. 'I knew you had the Sight, at least.' I looked up, seeing how much daylight we had left. There wasn't much. 'It's nearly full dark. We should go.'

'We? I though you were going to leave me alone.'

'I lied.' There was no point about lying about having lied. 'Hodge said I have to bring you to the Institute with me. He wants to talk to you.'

'Why would he want to talk to me?' Her voice said that she had no idea how special or important she might be.

'Because you know the truth now. There hasn't been a mundane who knew about us for at least a hundred years.'

'About us?' She'd gotten really good at echoing my voice. It anyone else had done it, I would have gotten really annoyed. ' You mean people like you. People who believe in demons.'

'People who kill them,' I corrected. 'We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us.' It was a joke, but Clary didn't even smile.

'Downworlders?' There was that echo again.

'The Night Children. Warlocks. The fey. The magical folk of this dimension.'

Now Clary thought I was joking. ' Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?'

'Of course there are,' I informed her, slightly miffed. She shouldn't make jokes about them. 'Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are.'

'What about mummies?' Now she seemed to be serious. 'Do they only hang around Egypt?'

'Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies.'

'They don't?'

'Of course not.' I insisted forcefully. 'Look, Hodge will explain all this to you when you see him.'

She crossed her arms over her chest, like she was trying to be threatening. 'What if I don't want to see him?'

'That's you problem. You can come either willingly or unwillingly.'

Now she looked flabbergasted. 'Are you threatening to kidnap me?'

'If you want to look at it that way' I mused, 'Yes.'

She opened her mouth to yell at me probably, but her phone went off, interrupting her.

'Go ahead and answer that if you like.' I offered generously.

It stopped, for a beat, then started again, an insistent buzzing noise. Clary frowned about something, and turned away from me and dug through her bag for her phone. I wanted to turn her back towards me; it bothered me that she turned her back on me. Clary's voice, though, cut through the silence. 'Mom?'

I couldn't hear much. Or maybe, I didn't want to hear much. I could usually hear the complete conversation when someone was on the phone, even if I wasn't right beside the phone. But, it felt wrong, somehow, to listen to Clary talk with her mom. There was a lot of static and Clary's frantic voice that kept getting cut off by a loud noise, or by her equally frantic mother. Then all the static stopped. There was a slimy thud, and Clary's mother's voice saying 'I love you' as the line went dead.

'Mom!' Her voice was shrill and riled with panic. 'MOM!'

She was yelling into the phone, but the screen said, "Call ended". I had to calm her down. 'Clary.' I loved the way her name curled around my tongue. 'What's going on?'

She ignored me and started hitting the redial button like her life, or her mother's, depended on it. Maybe it did. The busy signal kept coming back, though, and her hands were starting to shake. I saw the phone fall from her grasp and knew I could save it, but I just let it fall.

'Dammit!' By now, tears were in her eyes, and her voice was shaking, too. She picked the phone up on her hands and knees, but the screen was cracked and dead. She threw it down this time.

'Stop that.' I murmured, and helped her up by her wrists. 'Has something happened?' Well that was brilliant. No, Jace, nothing has happened. Clary always acts this frantic after getting a phone call.

When she was up, she snatched my Sensor out of my pocket. 'Give me your phone. I have to- '

'It's not a phone.' I didn't move. I was frozen by the way she had been so close, her fingers brushed against my chest- 'It's a Senor. You won't be able to use it.' I had to concentrate on the matter at hand.

'But I need to call the police!' I doubted the police could help her, in this situation.

'Tell me what happened.' I had her wrists, and I could feel her attempts to escape my grip. 'I can help you.'

I don't know what part of my words angered her so, but her face twisted with rage, and she lashed out with her hand, her nails grazing against my cheek. It was a reflex, to let go of her and step back; I wasn't use to girls attacking me. She ran off before I could get a hand on her again, and she was surprisingly fast.

At the end of the alley she turned, as if to she if I would follow. She looked frightened, and peered into the shadows to see if I was there. Nothing moved in the shadows, though. I was already on top of the building, perching on the edge of the roof. She took off towards her house, I climbed down and took off after her.


	5. Saving Clary Part 2

**I don't not own these characters as much as I would like to. They, and the basic plot, belong to the Awesome Cassandra Clare.**

**Please comment and help point out mistakes. Thx:)!**

* * *

Following people isn't easy, no matter what anyone says. And people if say it's hard, then they're right. I had to stay behind Clary enough that she wouldn't see me or be able to notice me before I could have ducked out of sight, but New York is crowed. Too many people were between us, and half the time I couldn't see her. Whenever that happened, I got this panicked feeling in my chest, like I had just lost some thing too important to explain. When I could see her, I'd get a bubbly feeling and want to just…smile. Nothing drastic, but I just felt better.

I could tell when we had gotten within a block of her house, as she got even more frenzied and almost tripped a few times. I sped up too, but it wasn't enough. She had opened the door, and rushed through it, letting the automatic lock do its job. I managed to slam the door with both my fists, but it didn't open. It looked rather desperate, so I looked around, and cast a glamour on me in case some one saw me and though I was trying to break in. I then took out my stele and tried the 'open' Rune. I though the door would just unlock, but instead it shuddered in its frame, like the Rune was being resisted. I tried again, just to be sure, but it trembled like a leaf the second time, too. Why would an ordinary apartment door be resistant to Runes? I didn't even know that was possible. I couldn't think of anything else to do; I was desperate. I could hear Clary's screams, and so could every one else in Brooklyn. So I punched the glass out.

I know it was stupid, and if I wasn't so well trained, enough to know to put my jacket around my hand first, I think I might have cut myself or broken my hand or something equally annoying. It worked; I could get in now, so I turned the handle from the inside and walked in. The missing glass was a problem, though. I pondered the problem for a moment; the door was resistant to Runes, but was the glass? I put a small glamour on the remaining glass so it would still look like there was a full pane in the window, and turned around to take the steps three at a time. The door was unlocked and I walked into see Clary, on the floor, with a disappearing Ravener demon disappearing, my Sensor gone, but a suspiciously Sensor-shaped bulge was protruding from its lower throat. The Ravener's poisonous needle was sticking in the back of Clary's neck.

I fought the panic the sight induced and rushed over to her. She was still breathing fine. Her skin was pale, but Clary was pale normally; the sting was fresh enough that I didn't think much of it. I pulled it out, but the thing was transparent now, so the poison must have almost all been injected. Her veins were a normal blue, so it hadn't gotten very far into her blood stream yet. It was only a matter of time.

I managed to drag her outside, behind a pile of rose bushes before the police came into the house. They were already outside; someone must have reported the noise. Or maybe the demons in the NYPD had felt the Ravener die and decided to investigate, faking a noise complaint. She awoke just as the police were arriving. I think the excruciating noise of the sirens might have done it. Or the just as annoying red, white and blue flashing lights. She was coughing and shaking a bit. I knew I had to cover her neck with something, so I started to rip a piece of cloth I'd stolen from her apartment. 'Don't move'. I insisted.

Like the Clary I was getting use to, she turned her head anyway, and from the gasp, she'd felt where the stinger went in. She sat there, lying on her back on the grass for a bit, getting her bearings, I'd imagine. But, instead of sitting quietly like I had asked, she tried to sit up, and just started to gag.

'I told you not to move.' I whispered forcefully, 'The Ravener demon got you in the back of the neck. It was half-dead so it wasn't much of a sting, but we have to get you to the Institute.'

'That thing- the monster- it talked.' Clary was shaking harder now, and her voice was quiet, but terrified.

'You've heard a demon talk before.' I tried to be a gentle as possible; I've heard about how much these hurt. I tied the cloth, smeared with a slave to delay most demon poison, around her neck. The slave might, _might_, just allow me to get her to Hodge before it kills her. For some reason, I just didn't think that was an option here, her dying.

I'd told her not to move, but apparently, she doesn't consider talking moving. 'The demon in Pandemonium- it looked like a person. ' She was barely moving her lips, so I had to give her some credit. And I liked her voice.

'It was an Eidolon demon. A shape-shifter. Raveners look like they look. Not very attractive, but they're too stupid to care.'

'It said it was going to eat me.'

'But it didn't. You killed it.' I didn't let any pride creep into my voice; I was too worried still. I finished the note and rocked back onto my heels. The pain in Clary's neck should have faded slightly, but it didn't help her shaking. Or her lack of understanding of the words "Do not move."

'The police are here.' Her voice was cracking. Not a good sign. 'We should- '

'There's nothing they can do. Somebody probably heard you screaming and reported it. Ten to one those aren't real police officers. Demons have a way of covering their tracks.' No point in telling her that the head of most police departments were demons. Don't want to scare her even more.

'My mom.' I had to concentrate here! Clary was now sounding like a thirteen year old boy. Her voice was breaking and sounded so painful . I had to get her out of here. But how?

'There's Ravener poison coursing through your veins _right now_. You'll be dead in an hour if you don't come with me.' I held out my hand to help her get up, which she took, slowly. Arg! This was taking too long. 'Come one.'

As she got up, her eyes unfocused and she slipped down. 'Can you walk?' Wow, Jace. Another perceptive comment, by you.

'I think so.' She whispered; actual talking must have been too painful. I felt proud again that she was taking this well enough. Clary looked over and the police and noticed on of the not human officers. 'Her hand-'

'I told you they were demons.' I didn't want her to talk anymore, but I needed to find a way out of here, which I told her. 'We have to get out of here. Can we go through the alley?'

She shook her head and kept talking. 'It's bricked up. There's no other-.' Her couching cut her off. She covered her mouth with her hand, but when it came away, her hand was covered in speckles of blood. She whimpered. I didn't have time for this! She was dying right now and I couldn't find away out! With out thinking, I took my stele and traced the glamour for invisibility on her wrist. I could barley hold her still; she was dizzy and her knees buckled almost before I was done. I noticed her veins while I was Marking her. They were bigger and more teal than they should have been. The poison was getting everywhere.

She had been watching the whole time, 'What's that suppose to do?' She asked, her whispered voice more ragged than ever.

'It'll hide you.' I muttered. Explaining Runes to someone was not usual; if you were Marking someone, they knew what it meant. But every time I traced one, I could recite the name, what it did and other things about it. I guess it was like a reflex. She was staring at the cylinder that had traced the Mark. 'My stele.' I explained with no further elaboration. And that was because Clary was blacking out. She whispered 'Jace'. Once. And fell to into my outstretched arms. She was so light. I picked up the rest of her and muttered. 'Let's hope the Covenant markes don't hurt her. I don't want a Forsaken on my hands. ' I pushed that thought from my head and left the safety of the rose bushes to find something that would get us to the Institute. I had to flag down a cab.

I had to sit in the back as it would look strange to the man who couldn't see Clary, for me to open the door and shut it again with out getting in. I called Alec on the way and told him to get Hodge to mix a Ravener poison cure and to prepare a bed in the infirmary. Then to take out some of my frustration, I yelled at the cabbie to go faster for twenty bucks. I hoped she would still need the bed by the time we got there.

When we did get to the address I'd told the fat, smelly old cabbie, I crouched down and pointed out the window. 'You see anyone out there?' I did my best impression of a trustworthy, but frightened kid.

'Kid, this is the city of New York. Of course I see people. I'd see someone if it was three in the morning and pouring rain.' He seemed to kind that funny and gave a wheezing laugh.

'Do you see a tall man with white hair? Big, probably in black leather. Blue eyes,. Real cold blue eyes. Thin lips. Can you get out and look? I'll give you an extra twenty.' I whined again.

The cabbie sighed and got out, and looked around a bit. 'Nothin'. I don't see no one like that.'

I gave a fake sigh of relief. 'Oh, good. I thought they might be on me already.' I opened the door and reached into my pocket, as if to pay the fair. Instead I pulled out my stele, put it in an easier to reach pocket, then gave a shout. I fell to the ground and hissed 'There he is! How didn't you see him?'

The cabbie turned around, and jerked his head back and forth as he tried to see the man that wasn't there. I pulled Clary out while he was turned away, and gave my self the same Mark as I had given her. The cabbie turned back, slightly pissed with all this nonsense, even if he was making a buck off it. 'Kid, I still don't-' He cut off as he realized there wasn't a "kid" to address. I was gone.

No doubt the cabbie was pissed, but I was never going to pay him. I didn't even pay subway fair if I could help it. I was only a block or so away from the Institute and Hodge's healing hands, but Clary wasn't getting any lighter. I was breathing hard by the time I got there, and put her in the bed. Hodge shut the door on me, and I wondered into the shower to get rid of the sweat and the stink of demons. I didn't feel like eating anything, even when Isabelle decided to forgo her cooking attempts for once and order Chinese. The worry I had felt, and the panic, had ruined any appetite the Chinese would have given me. I wasn't sure how long the poison would take to be out of her system, but once, an older Shadowhunter had been struck and he'd been out for almost a week, even with the Silent Brothers. I couldn't wait a week for her. I'm bad with waiting. There wasn't anything else I could do today, though, so I just went to bed.

My last though before drifting off was that I had given the cabbie the exact description of my father the last day I'd seen him alive.


	6. When she's awake

**Alright, so It's time I've had a word with all of you. I would enjoy some comments, if you don't mind. No, really. Please comment.**

** Oh, and this story, the plot, the characters, pretty much everything, belongs to Cassandra Clare, who is much better at writing than me and has published a new book, The Clockwork Angel, which you should all read.**

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'Alright.' I muttered to myself, 'Let's start the counting. Again. 1 and 2 and 3 E and A 4 and 1….' I poised my fingers over the Ivory keys of the piano, and press down on the right ones keeping in time with the counting I was doing. I could do the opening fine, but the first section after that always gave me trouble.

'1 and 2 and 3 E and A 4 and 1. Now, E flat, C and F…No, I mean G sharp…. Keep going, it's fine…No! That was suppose to be a dotted half, not a quarter! Whatever. And 2 and 3 – 4 1… NO!' I slapped down on the keys and rested my hand of my fore head. This was getting stupid. I had this song memorized at one point; Father had insisted. But I don't play the piano often anymore, so I'd fallen out of practice. The counting is driving me insane and trying to keep count and get the right notes while still doing the right hand, which is harder for me, use to be so easy. I stood up and went over to get my new Sensor, to replace the one Clary had gotten eaten. For whatever reason, it had a metronome on it. Or at least, at steady click that helped count time. I grabbed it out of my jacket pocket that was sitting on a fold out chair with my breakfast of last's night pizza. I been up since four, had one of the longest showers of my life, got some food and went straight to the Concert Hall. It wasn't far from the residential wing, but everyone claimed to like my playing; they didn't seem to mind that I was playing at, around six, today, and yesterday, I had been playing yesterday at, around two, having slept for a bit after bring Clary in. It was almost ten thirty, but no one had come to talk to me yet. The only break I've had, besides sleeping, was to burn Clary's clothes and to get some food.

Or maybe they had. I slowed to a stop in front of the piano and turned around. I had finished the pizza I had brought with me. Someone had brought me more? I guess I was concentrating so hard on the playing I didn't notice when someone had come in. Most likely Alec; He's the only one who ever comes near me when I play the piano. I went back to grab the pizza and found a cup of something sitting there, too. It smelt fine, so Isabelle didn't have anything to do with it. I grabbed a piece and the drink and sat back down at the piano. I put my new Sensor the top of the black, grand piano, and it started to click. I got use to the sound and started playing again.

It wasn't going well. I kept missing the notes, or when I hit them, it'd be on the wrong count. I kept going, though, until I was so off, I think I was playing a completely different song. The clicking was starting to get on my nerves, too. I picked up the Sensor to turn it off, only, it started clicking faster. I snapped. I slammed my hand down on the keys again, but this time, hard enough to snap off a corner of a D. It cut my pinkie, and the hit must have pushed the Sensor off its track, because it started going like crazy. Which made me madder. I spun around on the bench and whipped it towards the wall. It smashed into a mural of some angels playing a harp, and fell to the floor. I sighed and looked at the door like it could help me somehow. It didn't do anything, until Alec walked through it, so I guess it sent help in an annoying, frail package. I growled slightly and picked up the drink. Alec just stood there as I took a big swig, but when I put down my cup, he slinked over and sat beside me on the bench.

'Do you want me to help you count?' He asked in a pitying voice.

'Help count? No, I can do it fine without you.' I turned back towards the piano, but Alec in the way. 'Could you move?'

He didn't. 'Come on. I can keep a steady rhythm. Just tell me how and I'll count so you don't have to.' He insisted.

'Sure, fine.' I relented. 'Just…just not too loud, all right? I need to concentrate.'

He smiled slightly and moved over so I could sit in the middle. I gave him the counting, which Alec got right away. I started playing again, and found it so much easier. Alec's voice was just at the right tone where I could hear it, but not enough that it would bother me. The Sensor was still clicking away in the background, but I was too zoned out to be annoyed.

I got through the whole intro and first section with Alec's counting, and then through the second section and the ending, which I hadn't tried since I'd stopped playing. When the last notes rang out, Alec stopped counting and grinned. 'Wasn't that so much easier?'

It was, but I wasn't going to admit it. 'Sure, but your voice to so high; it's going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day.' I stood up and went over to grab the other piece of now cold pizza. I could hear Alec biting his lip, which meant he wasn't sure if he wanted to say something. 'Spit it out, Alec,' I mumbled through the pizza. 'What do you want?'

'You must be really worried about that girl, huh?' He asked, he voice disappointed.

I turned to look at him, and saw his head was doing, staring intently at his hands. 'What are you talking about? And her name is Clary.'

He let out one chuckle, and shook his head. 'You always and only play the piano when you're anxious.' He shrugged. 'You've been playing it for almost twenty-four hours straight. How worried can you be?'

That surprised me. Had Alec really noticed that? He must be more observant than I though. I guess I did, but I hadn't realized that until he had mentioned it. When I 'd been all freaked out about my eyes in the beginning, I had played for a while, going through Vivaldi's whole Seasons piece. And after I had kissed Isabelle, I had played for a bit. Maybe it was me trying to reconnect with the disciplinary life with my father, where I had been calm and collected, always. If I hadn't, I would have felt father's anger.

'I'm not that worried, Alec.' Liar. 'I feel like I have to save her. It was my fault. If I hadn't gone after her, maybe she would have gotten home in time.' That was the truth. 'She'll get better and we'll send her home. It not like I want her to stay here.' That was a lie. I needed that calm that Clary brought back into my life, like a drug.

'So you don't really care if she dies? You know that she probably will, right? She's only human.' He sounded excited and hopeful, but why would he hope that she dies?

'No, not really. ' I shrugged. 'She's just a girl.' She's not just a girl. There's something about her, something I need. If she died….

There was a pause. Not a long one, but it was still awkward. Alec had his eyes closed and was smiling, whilst I was trying to hide that fact that I couldn't stand if Clary died. Finally Alec broke the silence.

'Jace… Does this have something to do with your father?'

My father? What? Where did that come from? Why did he mention my father? What connection did he have to this? No, Jace, don't think about- Too late. Memories of him and I, more of just him and even more of him and pain, pounded on the gates of my mind, until they broke through. The time with the hunting falcon; the way he told the servant to get rid of it after I had killed it for not doing what I had told, his expression when I had done something right, disappointed and proud at the same time, and when I had done something wrong, it was anger.

'This has…' The time I couldn't "kill" the 15 training mannequins fast enough, and when I had gone to leave out of anger at myself, he had pinned my jacket to the door with a throwing knife. But when I had gone to take it out, the blood meant he had pinned my arm the door: he always hit what he meant to. The bruises I would always have from him, the scars that still haven't faded.

'Nothing, _nothing_, to do…' The way he would always push me to be faster, train harder, become stronger. The fact that I had given the cab driver my father's description.

'My father.' The way I would always go to bed remembering his expression when he had told me to hide. His expression of remorseless relief. The way, a few nights after he had died, I'd want to kill my self for not being faster, not have trained hard enough, not become strong enough. The thought that maybe if I had, father would have asked me to fight with him and that he could have survived.

Alec was using his worried voice, but I couldn't see his face; all I could see was father. Father beating me, father pushing me harder, father scolding me. 'Jace, are you sure? You couldn't save him, so maybe you want to save her.' He moved closer to me. 'It's fine Jace. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine.'

I took a deep breath and the visions disappeared. 'This has nothing to do with my father. I don't want to save her.' I _need _to save her. 'She should be helped, then she should go. That's it.'

Alec put his hand on me, mid-thigh. 'Okay, Jace.' Then he grabbed my arm, just below the wrist, which meant that he wasn't holding my hand, but he wasn't exactly holding my wrist, either. He leaded against me, until his head was pressed against the side of face. His breath tickled my ear, and when he spoke his teeth grazed my jaw. 'If you're sure about that, it's fine. We don't have to say anything else.' He moved his hand up higher on my leg. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of Alec. Where his hands and face were against me, it was like sparks going off. My blood was pounding in my chest, and I could feel it coursing under my skin. It was like it was trying to burst out of my veins. My finger started to throb and I untangled my hand from Alec's to look at it. I could almost see my veins bursting, pumping the blood to and from my hand. It was like there was a monster under my skin, trying to get free.

I tried to speak, demand an answer from Alec, but the blood in my ears was too loud, thundering, and I couldn't hear what I even said. 'Alec. What are you doing to me?' is what I'm pretty sure I got out. I needed to know why he summoned such a rage under my skin, and why nothing like this had ever happened before.

I must have said something to offend him, though, as he pulled away, and looked stricken and hurt again, like the time in my room. He stood up and turned to look out the window. I went to stand up and apologize or something, but I spun towards the door at the feeling of Church's presence. He meowed at Alec, and rushed passed me the moment he noticed the cat. He didn't say anything, which meant he was angry with me again. I sat back down on the piano bench and held my head in my hands. Why did I keep screwing things up between Alec and I? What sort of problem did I have that would do this to me?

I sighed, and after a bit, I noticed that I had begun playing the intro to a song who's name I'd long forgotten. Another one of Father's favorites, from the times we had gone to the Concert Hall in Idiris. We had hidden in the back and kept out faces out of view, which I'd never questioned. Father would do things like that. He'd tell me it was part of my training, hiding in a Concert Hall. Like all the times he'd leave for days at a time, and come back angrier with me. Never once did I question him.

I kept playing until I neared the end, when someone's presence returned me from cloud 9. 'Alec?' It was almost too much t hope for, that he had forgotten his anger so quickly.

'No,' Came the voice that quickened my heart in a way nothing else ever would. 'It's me, Clary.'

She came farther in, and I noticed Isabelle's clothes on her. I had half a mind to mention it. I stood up, pushing off the keys, making them clink. 'Our own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?'

'Nobody. I woke up on my own.'

'Was there anyone with you?'

'Isabelle, but she went off to get someone- Hodge, I think. She told me to wait, but-"

'I should have warned her about your habit of never doing what you're told." I blinked at her, and the half of my mind won. 'Are those Isabelle's clothes? They look ridiculous on you." It seems that Clary brought out my nervous habit I hadn't seen in years of talking about everything and anything.

'I could point out that you burned my clothes."

'It was purely precautionary.' I closed the cover on the piano, hoping she wasn't too mad.' Come on. I'll take you to Hodge.'

We walked through the Institute, towards Hodge and the room where Mayrse gave me my name. I hardly noticed the murals on the wall, or the open doors to the unused rooms, but to Clary, they seemed to be pieces of art. Everything she eyed with an appreciation for the style and painting.

'Why does this place have so many bedrooms?' She asked finally. I had been hoping she'd ask, even if it was just to talk. 'I though it was a research institute.'

'This is the residential wing. We've pledged to offer safety and lodging to any Shadowhunter who requests it. We can house up to two hundred people here.'

'But most of these rooms are empty.'

'People come and go. Nobody stays here for long. Usually it's just us- Alec, Isabelle, Max, their parents- and me and Hodge.'

'Max?'

'You met the beauteous Isabelle? Alec is her elder brother. Max is the youngest, but he's overseas with his parents.'

'On vacation?'

'Not exactly.' I paused, thinking of the best way to explain this. If she was only human, or something of the sort, I shouldn't tell her too much. 'You can think of them as- as foreign diplomats, and this as an embassy, or sorts. Right now, they're in the Shadowhunter home country, working out some very delicate peace negotiations. They brought Max with them because he's so young.'

'Shadowhunter home country?' Clary sounded very confused. 'What's it called?'

'Idris.'

'I've never heard of it.'

'You wouldn't have.' I tried not to sound too exasperated with her. There were reasons she hasn't heard about it. 'Mundanes don't know about it. There are wardings- protective spells, up all over the borders. If you tried to cross into Idris, you'd simply find yourself transported instantly from one border to the next. You'd never know what happened.'

'So it's not on any maps?'

'Not mundie ones. For our purposes you can consider it a small country between Germany and France.'

'But there isn't anything between Germany and France. Except Switzerland.'

'Precisely.' I pointed out.

'I take it you've been there. To Idris, I mean.'

'I grew up there.' I tried to sound cold enough she'd get the message that I don't like to talk about it. Id already gone through my memories of my life with my father; I didn't need to go through them again. 'Most of us do. There are, of course, Shadowhunters al over the world. We have to be everywhere, because demonic activity is everywhere. But to a Shadowhunter, Idris is always 'home.'

'Like Mecca or Jerusalem.' Clary added thoughtfully. She seemed to be taking this rather well. 'So most of you are brought up there, and then when you grow up-'

'We're sent where we're needed.' I cut in, just to make sure she didn't' get into any 'growing up' stories. I really didn't want to talk about it. 'And there are a few, like Isabelle and Alec, who grow up away from the home country because that's where their parents are. With all the resources of the Institute here, with Hodge's training.' I stopped. We had reached the library too soon for my liking. 'This is the library.'

The doors were arches that were closed like always. Church was sitting in front of them like he was their guardian, but I knew better. He just didn't want me going in. He was spiteful like that.

'Church'. I nodded at him, hoping I wouldn't have to kick him to get him out of the way. He got up and scampered off, thankfully.

'Wait,' Clary paused, stopping. 'Alec and Isabelle ad Max, they're the only Shadowhunters your age that you know, that you spend time with?'

I froze my hand, inches from the door handle. 'Yes'. Well, I didn't really spent time with them, but I got what she meant.

'That must get kind of lonely.'

'I have everything I need,' I replied without hesitation. I had myself. That had always been enough. Now, I'm not so sure. I reached out again and pulled the door open and, not waiting for Clary to follow me, I walked in.


	7. Hodge

**(Me) The characters and basic plot, belong to Cassandra Clare and so do-**

**(The crowds) WE KNOW! COME ON!**

**(Me) Right. First though, please let me take a moment of your time to ask you to take a moment of _your_ time and comment and review at the end-**

**(The crowd) WE KNOW! GET ON WITH IT!**

**(Me) Oh, sorry. Here you go.**

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I didn't know if Clary had followed me right away or not, but I could tell when she had entered the room, as she gasped quietly. I knew how she felt; the library was magnificent, with the mural on the floor, the shelves that held more books than it was possible to read and the general atmosphere of quietness and knowledge. I always felt slightly awed by this room.

I stopped near the entrance, but Clary kept wondering in, as if she didn't know she was doing it; it was like she was being drawn in by the powers of the books or something. She looked at everything, wide eyed. I snuck up behind her and waited for her to finish gapping at everything in the room. I could here someone else's breathing besides mine, Hodge's and Clary. It sounded like Isabelle's angry breathing, but was too deep. Alec, then I guess, but I had never heard Alec breathing like that. Clary seemed to notice Hodge, finally, and he smiled.

'A book lover, I see," he spoke in his normal voice volume, but it always seemed quieter in here. 'You didn't tell me that, Jace.'

I laughed once, expecting Clary to turn around surprised that I was behind her. To her credit, she didn't, but tilted her head slightly. 'We haven't done much talking since we've met,' I smirked . 'If we liked books wasn't on my list of immediate questions to ask.'

Clary turned around now, and glared at me. She turned back to Hodge, who was still sitting down behind the huge desk of his. 'How could tell? That I liked books, I mean.'

Hodge stood up now, to come over and introduce himself. 'The look on your face when you walked in. Somehow I doubt you were impressed by me.'

I heard Clary's intake of breath as Hodge came closer. Hugo was on his shoulder, which made him seemed, in the half-light, like one shoulder was lower than the other. I saw things like that all the time, but in Clary's world, might have seemed repulsive. When he come close enough for her to see it was just a bird, though, she let out the breath and I saw her relax.

'This is Hugo.' Hodge indicated, pointing at the gray bird. 'Hugo is a raven, and, as such he knows many thins. I, meanwhile, am Hodge Starkweather, a professor of history, and, as such, I do not know nearly enough.'

Clary laughed slightly. I hadn't heard her laugh before. She reached out and shook his hand. 'Clary Fray.'

'Honored to make your acquaintance. ' He smiled again. 'I would be honored to make the acquaintance of anyone who could kill a Ravener with her bare hands.'

'It wasn't my bare hands.' She sounded defensive, like she didn't' want to be congratulated about that. Maybe she didn't, but I would have. ' It was Jace's- well, I don't remember what it was called, but-'

'She means my Sensor. She fed it to the thing. ' I interrupted. I had broken and lost two in the same amount of days. ' The Runes must have done it. I guess I'll need another one. I should have gotten one.'

'There are several extra in the weapon's room.' Hodge turned back and smiled again at Clary. He didn't look as old when he smiled. 'That was nimble thinking. Why would you use the Sensor as a weapon?'

I heard Alec's sharp intake of breath, then his malicious laugh. 'I wouldn't have thought you'd buy that story, Hodge.'

He was sitting in a chair in the corner, half hidden from the light. Clary turned to the sound of his voice. Why was he so angry? And was Clary staring at him? Alec sure didn't seem to like it; he was glaring at her, his eyes burning like demon poison. I took a step towards him, hoping to calm him down or something, but Hodge's was already trying.

'I'm not sure I understand Alec.' Hodge was still very calm. There wasn't a point in me trying to cam Alec down now. I wasn't very good at it anyway. Mostly, I just made Alec angry enough to forget about what was upsetting him in the first place. 'Are you suggesting that someone else killed the demon?'

'Obviously _she_ didn't. A little mundie kid.' Alec was angry now, but he'd burn away his anger in a minuet. Hodge was regarding him with one eyebrow up, which pulled at the scar on Hodge's face. It made Hodge look like he was trying not to laugh. 'No chance she took on a Ravener.'

'I'm short, not a kid.' Clary stood up for herself; if she hadn't, I would of. 'On Sunday, I'm sixteen.'

Hodge nodded, still calm. 'Isabelle is the same. Do you call her a child?'

'Isabelle,' Alec spoke slowly, his angry slightly abating, but he spoke tightly. 'Isabelle, is from one of the greatest Shadowhunter families. Where do you come from? New Jersey?'

'No! I'm from Brooklyn!' Clary was getting angry now and I smiled. She had a temper, this one. 'And what's your point? I just killed a- a demon in _my house_, which gives you the right to be a dickhead about it, because you're a spoiled rich kid brat?'

I could tell Clary had just about shocked Alec's anger right out of him. ' I beg your pardon?'

I couldn't help it; I laughed. Alec looked so surprised that anyone besides me would call him something like that. 'She's right Alec.' I chuckled. 'It's those bridge-and-tunnel demons you really have to watch out for-'

'This isn't a joke Jace.' He stood up, interrupting me. Something he never would have done before. 'Are you just going to stand there and insult me?'

I didn't even have to think about it. 'Of course.' I replied nicely. 'It'll be good for you- it's like endurance training.'

'Just because we're _parabatai_' Alec was speaking through his lips again. 'doesn't mean you can use flippancy to wear me out.'

'Well, your obstinacy is wear me out. When I saw Clary, she was lying on her floor, in a pool of blood. A dying demon was almost on top of her; I watched it vanish. If she didn't get it, then who did?'

'Raveners aren't the smartest. Maybe it got itself in the back of the head with its stinger. It has happened-'

'Alec, are you saying it committed suicide?' I asked sarcastically.

Alec shut his mouth and looked angry again. 'She shouldn't be here. Mundies aren't welcomed in the Institute and that's for a good reason. If someone told the Clave, we'd get in trouble.'

'Not necessarily.' Hodge interjected. 'The Law is lenient enough to let us provided shelter for mundanes under circumstances. A demon, a Ravener no less, has attacked Clary's mother- she could be the next one.'

I noticed the small wince on Clary's face, and wished Hodge had been more delicate.

'Raveners are seek and destroy demons.' Alec explained, still angry. 'They get orders from Warlocks or more powerful demons. So what interest would a warlock or demon lord have with your mother?' I frowned at that; Clary shouldn't be the one under investigation. 'Any thoughts?'

Clary paused for a moment, and I though she would say something that would make this all clear. The Clave would come and fix it, and she'd leave forever. But instead she must muttered. 'It must have been a mistake.'

I breathed out a sigh of relief, but Alec jumped on her right away. 'Demons don't make mistakes like that. There has to be a reason. If she wasn't in trouble-'

'What do you mean,' Clary asked very quietly. '"Wasn't in trouble"?'

A silence proceeded that. Clary seemed hurt, and no one else was talking, so I said the only thing in my head, that I had been almost worrying about.

'Clary, how's your arm?' I asked, half way between a whisper.

She nodded and looked down at her wrist. The faint scar was there, and I smiled to my self. I had been right; there was some Clave blood in her. There wasn't any lasting damage besides the scar. I nodded and Clary half whispered back 'Why is it still there?'

'They don't completely go away, ever. That will always be there, but-'

'Jace Wayland.' I looked up to Hodge, who was standing right over Clary's shoulder. She jumped a bit; I could I have not noticed him come up so close? 'What have you done?'

'No, Hodge, she's fine. It was only one Mark-'

'One Mark?' Alec yelled. 'Jace, you know what Covenant Runes do to a human! Do you want a Forsaken on our hands?'

I rolled my eyes and trusted Clary's arm out at Hodge. 'She's fine, like I said. She must be part of us. Maybe that's why her-'

'No.'

I looked back at Clary, surprise she was so bold about her thoughts, and annoyed because I kept getting interrupted. 'What do you mean "no"?' You have some of our blood. You have to. If it isn't your mother, then what about your father? Or did he get stolen my a demon, too?' I snapped.

She looked me straight in my eyes, with no hesitation, but a lot of hurt and pain and snapped right back. 'He's dead.'

I let go of her arm then. Her father was dead, too? So she must know what it's like, then. I thought about asking her if she felt the same despair and horridness after he had died, but instead I just closed up my face, cutting her off from seeing the pain I had felt when my father died, and put on a face completely indifferent. I could tell, though, Clary had noticed.

'Well,' Alec mused uncertainly, 'Her father could have been one of us, and married her mother, a mundane. They must have been in hiding.'

'Clary shook her head. 'I told you. She wasn't a Shadowhunter and neither was my father. I would have been told he was. ' Clary had seemed certain before, btu I could hear a note of doubt creeping into her voice.

'Everyone has a secret.' I put out simply.

'My mother's friend. Luke, he would know.' Clary sounded guilty. 'I have to tell him I'm okay. It's been three days; he must be worried.' She turned to me, frantic. 'Isn't there a phone in here somewhere I could use? Please?'

I turned and looked at Hodge. He nodded and gestured to a phone on his desk. It was beside the globe of the world, with Idris included. Clary gave it a strange glance.

I stood a ways from the phone, but I could still hear everything they said perfectly. Luke picked up, and Clary visibly relaxed.

'Hello?' Luke's voice was rough and low. He reminded me of a wolf.

'Luke.' Clary leaned against the desk. 'It's Clary.'

'Clary.' He sounded relived, but it sounded fake. 'You're all right?'

'Yeah, I'm okay.' She was smiling now. 'I couldn't call before, sorry. Mom is-'

'I know. The police were here.'

'Then that means you haven't found her.' Clary seemed disappointed. I almost yawned. This conversation was so…Fluffy. 'What did the police say?'

'Just that she was missing.' I pictured the demon officer, and I saw Clary shudder, She must have been thinking about it, too. 'Where are you?'

'In the city somewhere. I don't know exactly, but I'm with some…Friend.' She hesitated on "friends" and I heard Alec snort. 'I don't know where my wallet went, but if you have some cash, I could get a cab to your house- '

'No.' Luke cut her off. It sounded pretty final. This conversation was finally getting interesting.

Clary almost dropped the phone. I thought it was out of surprise that her request had been denied, but when she put it back against her ear, she asked him to repeat what he had said.

'No.' Luke sounded even more final. 'It's too dangerous. You can't come here.'

'We could-'

'Look.' He interrupted her again. He sounded pissed that she wasn't getting it. I had thought Clary would have gotten the fact he didn't want her at his house, she seemed like a smart girl. 'Whatever your mother's gotten herself mixed up in, it's nothing to do with me. You're better off where you are.'

'But I can't stay here.' She sounded like I whiney child, so I went over and sat in one of the chairs, hoping I wouldn't hear her as well from across the room. 'I don't actually know these people.' Didn't work. 'Couldn't you-'

'I'm _not_ your father Clary. I've told you before.' Really didn't work. I could still hear Luke. I started concentrating on other noises around the Institute to drown her out. I could here Isabelle in her room, Church was prowling around somewhere; I could hear his nails against the hardwoods. It seemed to work; I next sound I heard in the room was Clary banging down the receiver back on the cradle. She looked like she was going to cry.

' He wasn't happy to hear from you, then I take it?' I asked pleasantly, and immediately cursed myself. Why would I do that? It was obvious that she was upset.

She sunk down to the floor and sat there, with a determined expression on her face. Hodge stood back up and with out looking at Alec or I, said 'I think I'll talk to Clary alone.'

I wanted to object. I wanted to not move, and stay by Clary's side. But Alec was already pulling on my arm, out of the room. Get managed to get me out of the room only because of Clary. She was glaring at me with an expression that echoed Hodge's words. She wanted to be alone with Hodge-. No. She just didn't want me in the room. I was dazed by that fact. Most people wanted me in the room, until they got to recognize the fact that I would just antagonize them. Alec pulled me into the hall, and shut the door, with a little too much force.

'Let's go to the weapons room. I have to work on some new Seraph blades.'

I followed him, but when I got there I was too dazed and hurt by the fact that Clary didn't want me.

'_ No way, Jace'. _I though to myself. _ Look at the way you made insulted her in there. _ I knew I had, but why? I felt different in her presence, so why would I go back to my less-then-nice ways with her in the room? That thought kept me from doing anything. I tried to figure it out, but every time I thought I had come up with an answer, I found I was answering the wrong question. The question I was trying to figure out was _Why had I been mean to her? _when the question should have been _Why did she change me in the first place?_

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	8. Return

**Thanks for the comments last time! Thanks to ****AnniaAngele and CrimsonQueen24. Oh, and these characters belong to Cassandra Clare, so does the plot and the rest of it.**

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'Jace…. Jace… JACE!'

I looked up. Someone was shouting my name. I turned around and found Alec standing behind me. I had been so out of it, I almost jumped at the sight of him.

'What Alec?' I felt like I had a headache, but the only time I had ever got them was during a hangover.

'Come on, Jace. You can't really be that upset just because she didn't want you in the room. Your comment almost seemed to make her cry.'

'I know Alec.' I snapped. 'Sorry. I'm just… On edge today. Clary's story doesn't really add up completely, I guess. Something about it bothers me.'

'I know!' Alec insisted. 'She lying about something. She's one of us, but won't admit it.'

'She didn't know about it Alec. If she was Shadowhunter, even part Shadowhunter, our blood dominates. She would have had some sort of signs before now, and she would have at least one Mark. Besides the one I gave her, I mean. '

'I don't know Jace. Maybe her father isn't dead. Maybe he's just hiding and he's going to use her for some nefarious purpose.' I made a strangled noise, and Alec looked over. 'Oh, sorry Jace. I didn't mean that, I was joking.' He laughed slightly.

I smiled along with him. 'Your right about something like that. Maybe her mother set up the attack, but Clary didn't know about it. It's possible that her mother was in trouble for something, but didn't tell Clary about it. '

Alec shook his head. 'You're seeing the best in her mother Jace. You never do that. My thought is that Clary was in on it too. She seems like the scheming type.'

I smiled and went on. 'Of course Clary was in on it. She wanted to do all this just so she could meet us. Well, probably just me. I am much more impressive than you.'

'No doubt. I wonder how long it will take before she has you tied up in her closet?' Alec smiled and continued on with the joke. 'Or maybe you should save her some trouble and tie yourself in her closet.'

'Don't be ridiculous Alec.' I snapped. He looked at me, and started to mumble an apology. I waved it off. 'I saw her closet; it was smaller than a cardboard box. I much rather have a walk-in closet; her closet couldn't contain such pure attractiveness.'

We took one look at each other and burst out laughing, both of our foul moods before forgotten. It wasn't all that funny, but laughter, by nature, is infectious. Alec just started laughing, and I couldn't stop. Finally we both calmed down, and Alec went back to working on the Seraph blades. I couldn't touch those things other then in battle; they gave my hands rashes. I didn't get up, but I reached over and pulled a throwing knife out of it's place on the wall and started throwing it up and catching it my the hilt. I zoned out again almost immediately, thinking about Clary. She was a conundrum. I don't really know if I believe her story, but I don't think she's lying either. Maybe we just don't have all the facts. I looked up when I heard foot steps down the hall, coming towards me. I stood up just as Clary came in. I had only heard on set of stood steps, which meant Hodge wasn't just lagging behind. 'Where's Hodge?'

Clary kept her eyes on the wall. 'Writing to the Silent Brothers'

Alec, on the other side of the room, shuddered. Clary noticed him and went over to the table. 'What are you doing?' She seemed to be hesitant to ask. Most people would from the look Clary was getting from Alec. It wasn't a bad look, it was just unsettling.

'Putting the final details on these.' Alec pointed to the Seraph blades in front of him. 'Sanvi, Sansanvi and Semangelaf.' He didn't offer any other explanation.

'What are they? They don't look like much, but do you make them with magic?' She asked

Alec eyes grew so wide and looked very insulted. I growled at the very mention.' The most ridiculous thing about mundies; they always think they know what magic is, but they just end up being obsessed with something they know nothing about.'

'I know what magic is.' Clary shot back, pissed.

'No, you just think you do.' I replied evenly. 'Magic is a powerful, dark force, not a bunch of crystal balls, sparkling wands and flying mice.

'I didn't say it was a lot of flying mice, you-'

I help up my hand, and kept going with my spiel. 'Just because you call an angry lion a stuffed rabbit, doesn't make it a stuffed rabbit, does it? And Heaven help the stupid bastard that tries and sleeps with the bunny. '

'Now you're just making yourself look stupid.' Clary pointed out.

I glared at her, and with great dignity, replied 'I am not.'

'Yes,' Alec muttered, 'You are.' He turned to Clary. 'Look, we don't do magic, alright? That's all you need to know.'

I could tell Clary was grinding her teeth at that. She took a deep breath and turn back to me. 'Hodge said I could go home.'

I blinked. 'He said you could do what?'

'To see if there's anything left, in my mother's things, I mean. I can only go if you come.'

Alec gave me a warning glance, but I didn't care. 'Alec, this will be the chance to prove who really was the schemer; down the rabbit hole, as it were.'

Clary nodded.' Exactly. If you want to prove my mother or father was a Shadowhunter, this is the best chance you've got.'

I started picking up stuff right away, stuff like the Seraph blades Alec had just finished, my Stele and a Sensor. As I pocketed the throwing knife I had in my hands, I could feel Alec looking at me like I was an idiot, but I still knew he wanted to come. He started to ask, but, not looking at him, I interrupted. 'It's fine, Alec. You don't have to come, we'll be alright.' I walked out before I could see the look on his face, but I knew it'd been nasty.

We were almost out the door before anyone said anything. We got in the elevator before I asked Clary if she had her house keys, which she did, and we lapsed back into a silence. For about two seconds until I heard a small 'Jace?'

'Yeah?'

'How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there an aura around me or something?'

I considered lying. Clary didn't seem like the type that wanted to know I had taken a gamble with her life. 'I guessed.' I blurted out softly. _Damn it._ I thought. I hadn't meant to say that, but Clary's power of making me say whatever comes to mind was working on me again. I got out of the elevator before I answered. 'It seemed the likely explanation.'

'You seemed pretty sure of yourself for someone who could have killed me.'

I shrugged.' I was ninety percent sure. ' And opened the door and walked of the Institute.

'I see.' was all Clary said. Hearing a strange note in her voice, I turned back around, and got a slap across my face for the trouble. It was a pretty good slap, with a lot of power coming from someone so tiny. ' And am I suppose to guess what the Hell that was for?'  
'The other ten percent.' And she walked out of the Institute and down the street.

I wasn't very angry, but Clary didn't say anything else to me for the walking to the subway and the first half of the ride. I may have had an angry look on my face, but I was angrier with myself for not expecting it, and even worse, not fighting back. Finally I turned to Clary to say something, anything, or apologize, when I remembered I never apologize. I stop myself from saying anything and found that she was just staring at me. She was looking in to my eyes, deeply enough that she seemed to be peering down to the depth of my dark and twisted soul. I knew I had to stop her before she caught a glimpse of how cruel and demented it was, so I blinked. 'Can I help you?' I demanded briskly.

Clary's eyes focused on mine for a second longer, then she concentrated on my shoulder. 'Those girls over there are looking at you.'

I assumed my best "I'm-more-attractive-then-you'll-ever-be-face" and said 'As they should be. Haven't you noticed my obvious attractiveness?'

'Haven't you heard of the saying "modesty is an attractive trait"?' She said back.

'Only from ugly people.' I confided. 'The meek may inherited the Earth, as of now, it belong to the conceited. Me, being the best example. ' I turned to the girls and winked. The giggled to each other and started laughing about who I was winking at, but there was a nervousness behind their laughs; they sounded too fake. It was like they were laughing just so I wouldn't eat them.

Clary sighed and groaned slightly. 'How come they can see you?'

'Glamours are a pain to use. Sometimes we don't bother.' We got off the trains, leaving the still now quiet girls, and walked out of the station. I was in a slightly better mood, but only slightly. I could feel the pressure of all the humans creeping up, their emotions clawing at my mind. I hadn't noticed last time, when I had gone to get Clary, I realized, and even now it was barley there compared to most times. For the rest of the walk to Clary's place, I wondered why that was, and why Clary seemed to change me like she did. I had no answer for the question; it was like biting down on a broken tooth. Not having an answer made me flippant and antsy, so I knew I should stop wondering about it, but it was so addictive. All the thinking put me on edge; to the point I took out my throwing knife and started flipping it across my knuckles and around my fingers, while humming random notes, naming them all as I went.

'Do you have to do that?' Clary asked,' It's annoying.'

I hummed louder.

'Sorry I smacked you.'

I stopped. 'Just be glad it was me and not Alec. I was thinking about it, but he _would_ have hit you back.'

'He seems to be itching for a chance.' She mumbled, then looked up at me. 'What was it that he called you? Para-something?'

'_Parabatai. _It means a pair of warriors who fight together- who are closer than brothers. Our fathers were too; Alec's father is my godfather. It's why I live with them.'

'But your name isn't Lightwood.'

'No.'

I was going to tell her what is was, but I could hear her heart thumping as we walked up to her front door. I gave the door a sideways glance to make sure my Rune was still working. It seemed to be until Clary said' Who punched out the glass?' as she unlocked the door. She looked around and frowned. 'It looks the same otherwise.'

'On the outside.' I pulled out my Sensor and pushed her slightly out of the way of the door.

'So that's a Sensor? What does it do?'

'It picks up frequencies, like a radio does, but these frequencies are demonic in origin.'

'Demon shortwave?'

'Something like that.' I murmured, while passing it slowly house 'It's picking up trace activity but that could just be left over from last night. I'm not getting anything strong enough for there to be a demon present now.'

I heard Clary's outtake of breath and felt her try and push past me to open the door. 'Good.'

I held her back 'I'll go in first.'

I unlocked it and pushed open the door ready to jump anything that moved. Nothing did, so I took a quick look around. The over head light was out, and the other tenant's door was tightly shut. Clary just stood there, taking in the normalness of the tight, I suppose. If demons knew how to do anything, it was clean up after them selves. I went to the banister and whipped my hand across a smeared shiny part I had gotten a glance of. My fingers came back blackish red. 'Blood.'

'Maybe it's mine.' Clary called in a small voice. She sounded scared 'From the other night.'

'It'd be dry by now if it were.' I started climbing the stairs. 'Come one.'

I got to the door before Clary and rested my ear against it for a moment. Nothing. I leaned back and let Clary open the door. She was shaking and grumbled the third time she tried the key 'Don't breath down my neck.' She hissed, now sounding terrified. SI heard the lock click, and I pulled open the door, pushing Clary behind me. 'I'll go in first.' I insisted quietly.

I went in, looking down the hallway, around corners and pausing t times to check for noises. There wasn't anything I could tell, so I relaxed slightly. Until I walked into the living room. Everything was gone. I wasn't sure how much furniture was supposed to be in a house, but I'm sure it wasn't nothing. There were lighter squares on the wall, showing the missing paintings, and the missing curtains casted the failing lights on the clean floors.

I turned around to see Clary walking into the kitchen, and I followed her lightly. The kitchen was just as clean, just as bare. The cabinets were open and any food there ever had been in them was gone.

Clary cleared her throat, like it was dry from a long period of no use. 'What. ' She asked slightly out of breath, 'would demons want with out microwave?'

It was a funny thought, some Raveners trying to cook some poor, un-expecting animal. 'I don't know, but I'm not sensing any demonic presence right now. I'd say they're long gone.' Clary looked around again, looking twice over a spot on the floor, slightly stained red. 'Are you satisfied? There's nothing here.'

'She shook her head. 'I want to see my room.'

I was about to tell her about the feeling I was getting; the headache that meant humanness of the world was getting to me. I wanted to say that I was starting to feel out of place, like we shouldn't be here. But if I didn't go with Clary now, she'd probably escape and run back here to look. 'If that's what it takes.' I said simply, putting my blade away.

I followed closely behind her, the out-of-place feeling getting worse as we got closer to the shut door. Clary put her hand on the doorknob, almost flinching away when she touched it. I opened my mouth when I saw how slowly the door was opening, but-

BAM! The door slammed outward, knocking Clary all the way down the hall, missing me only because, last second, I had moved. I drew out a Seraph blade Alec had been working on before. A Forsaken loomed before me, stinking of rotten meat and poison. His hair was one great mat down his back, dirty as his tattered rags of clothes. His skin was completely gray and dead, and in one hand, he held a gigantic broad ax, capable of killing me in one swing. He was almost tall enough to not fit through the door way and wide enough, too. Clary was behind him and she gasped. I could feel a crazy, insane feeling that sent my blood boiling and red-hot fury down my spine. I wanted to rip the Forsaken apart for throwing Clary down the hall with my bare hands. Something uncurled in me and I could feel my reflexes become faster, better. My vision sharpened and focused faster, and my arms and legs felt as light as feathers. I pulled out the first blade I grabbed in my jacket and yelled the name it spoke inside my head, ready to tear this freak of nature to bit' SANSANVI!'

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	9. Forsaken

'SANSANVI!'

I screamed as loudly as I could, hoping it would drag the stupid Forsaken away from Clary. She was still against the wall, seeming to be holding back a scream. The blade shot out of its holding case, and blinding me for a moment. I slashed out, my vision still disabled, striking the man around his rib area. He bellowed, and I took the moment to run to Clary. I hauled her up by her arm, then shoved her down the hall ahead of me. The thing was still following us, its footsteps shaking the ground slightly as we ran.

The thing may have been catching up, but I still had time to throw the door closed. The automatic door lock clicked, and Clary breath caught slightly. The man hit the door seconds after we got out, the door slammed against the hinges. I felt Clary's hand slip out of mine as she backed towards the stairs. I turned to look at her. 'Get downstairs! Get out of the-'

I didn't finish. The door blew out and almost knocked me off the landing. I got out of the way, moving so fast I would have been invisible to anyone else. The world for me though, was as clear and in-focus as it always was. I jumped to the top of the banister as the monster came blundering through the open doorway. I yelled at Clary to get out of the way again, to get downstairs, but she didn't seem to have heard me over the din the thing was making. It came towards me swinging its axe. I ducked and the axe hit the banister and stuck. For some reason, I found it funny. I barked out a short laugh, and the monster roared. It deserted its weapon, and came at me only with fists. I swept the blade through the air, managing to get the blade all the way to the hilt. The thing started to sway back and forth. For a second I thought I had it beat, but it lurched forward and grabbed at me. I moved, but underestimated the size of its hands. The hands caught me, barely, and after only one step, it fell, taking me with him.

We crashed down the stairs, and I could hear its grunts of pain. The Forsaken took most of the hits on the stairs, but I still knocked one shoulder, hard, against the edge of the step. I couldn't help but grunt.

When I hit the bottom finally, I blanked for a beat. I woke to hear Clary's slight scream, and her light footsteps tapping down the steps, coming down two at a time. I twisted slightly; the thing had landed on my legs, and was about as heavy as it looked. I couldn't feel them from the knee up with the occasional spasm. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth against the pain, but I blanked again. Clary's voice broke the spell and I blink and looked up. 'It is dead?' Which was stupid; I could feel it breathing.

Clary gave a quick glance at the thing, and I could tell from the way she looked away so fast it wasn't. 'Almost.'

'Hell.' I grumbled. 'My legs-' I stopped because I realized it wasn't only my legs. My left was bent around, and flattened. It was on fire but cold at the same time.

'Hold still.' Clary instructed. She put both her arms around mine and pulled. She got me out from under the still trembling corps, and I stood up as gracefully as I was able, which at the moment, wasn't all that graceful. I bent my arm across my chest, and helped Clary up with my right one.

'Is your arm alright?' She asked

I shook my head. 'No. Broken. Can you reach into my pocket?'

She paused then nodded slowly. 'Which one?'

'Inside jacket, right side. Take out one of the seraph blades and hand it to me.'

I stood motionless, as Clary, leaning close, searched the inside of my jacket's lining for the blade. Her hand grazed my chest at one point, and I could feel the trail of warmth it felt. I breathed in deeply, hoping she would mistake it for pain. Her scent was so potent, blocking out the stench of the dying Forsaken. The smell of the paint was sharp, but the mustiness of history that surrounded her lessened the edge. It was so pleasant and calming. Her smell was gone as soon as I had caught it. She handed me the blade, looking the other way.

I took it and called the name that came to my head, Sanvi, closing my eyes as the light from the weapon grew to blinding. 'Don't look.' I ordered.

I turn around, wanting to get this over with. Just as I was raising the blade over its head for the kill, as I had been taught, I felt a sudden twist of rage that this thing had been created. The rage took over, and instead of quickly stabbing it in the head, I slashed it across the throat, then punctured a lung. The thing would die no doubt; these guys had no healing powers, but I felt cruel right after doing it. I tsked at myself, and turn back to see Clary watching me. 'I told you not to watch.'

'I thought you said it would disappear. Back to its own dimension- you said.'

'I said that's what happens to demons when they die.' I got my jacket off; it was pulling on my arm uncomfortably, and I had to heal anyway. 'That wasn't a demon.' I took out my stele, about to draw an iratze, when I noticed that Clary was staring. 'This.' I explained. 'Is a stele.' I hesitantly touched it to the Mark on my shoulder, knowing the burn would be as bad as the broken arm. 'And this.' I went on.' is what happens when a Shadowhunter is wounded.'

I traced the lines, matching up the ones that weren't connected. It started to glow painfully, and for a few brief seconds, I wanted to still have my broken arm. I bore it out, though, and it quietly disappeared into my skin, leaving behind another scar.

I looked over myself, checking for any other injuries. Nothing, thankfully. I don't think I could stand another one of the burning Runes. I say that every time I get hurt, but every time it hurts. I rotated my arm around, making sure everything was working. It was a little stiff, and despite myself, I let a grunt of pain. Clary looked up but ignored her and kept twisting it around, bending and clenching my fist.

'That's amazing!' Clary gasped 'How did you-?'

'That was an _iratze_- a healing rune.' I told her. 'Finishing the rune with the stele activates it.' I put back my stele in my jacket pocket that was deep enough for the whole stele to be covered, and went over to nudge the Forsaken. It should have been dead by now, and, low and behold, it was. 'We're going to have to report this to Hodge.' I grinned slightly at the conversation that would ensue. 'He'll freak.'

'Why would he freak?' Clary asked, her frown, but smiling eyes face on again. 'And I get that that thing isn't a demon-that's why the Sensor didn't register it, right?'

I nodded, impressed she had caught on so quickly. 'You see the scars all over its face?'

Clary gave the corps a quick glance, then nodded.

'Those were made with a stele. Like this one.' I tapped my pocket. 'You asked me what happen when you carve Marks onto someone who doesn't have Shadowhunter blood. Just one Mark will only burn you, but a lot of Marks, powerful ones? Carved into the flesh of a completely ordinary human being with no trace of Shadowhunter blood?' You get this.' I didn't even point. I jerked my head in its general direction. Those things disgusted me beyond words. 'The runes are agonizingly painful. The Marked ones go insane- the pain drives them out of their minds. They become fierce, mindless killers. They don't sleep or eat unless you make them, and they die, usually quickly. Runes have great power and can be used to do great good- but they can be used for evil. The Forsaken are evil.'

'But why would anyone do that to themselves?'

'Nobody would. It's something that gets done to them. By a warlock maybe, some Downworlder gone bad. The Forsaken are loyal to the one who Marked them, and they're fierce killers. They can obey simple commands, too. It's like having a-' I paused, thinking of the right world. 'A slave army.' I stepped around the disgusting corps, making sure to none of its blood on my shoes. I turned back to Clary.' I'm going back upstairs.'

'But there's nothing there.'

'There might be more of them.' I hoped there would be. These things shouldn't exist. 'You should wait here.' I got to the third step before anyone said anything.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' The voice was high, and sounded panicky. 'There are more of them where the first one came from.'

I flipped around, and found the fake witch. She had a turban on her head, and was wearing what seemed to a bed sheet. I couldn't remember what her name was, though.

'Madame Dorothea?'

That was it. The older woman inclined her head. I frowned and took a step down. 'Wait…'

'More what?' Clary demanded.

'More Forsaken.' Dorothea replied with a cheerfulness I never would have used when talking about the monsters. She glanced around the entranceway. 'You have made a mess, haven't you? I'm sure you weren't planning on cleaning up either. Typical.'

'You are a mundane.' I forced out each word. How would she now about this world?

'So observant.' Dorothea smiled dryly. 'The Clave really out did themselves with you, didn't they?'

She knows about the Clave, and didn't tell anyone about this? Humans could have been killed. WE could have been killed. 'You know about the Clave? And you knew there are Forsaken up there, so why didn't' you say anything? Just the existence of Forsaken is a crime and-'

'Neither the Clave nor the Covenant have ever done to help me,' Her eyes flashed with anger. 'I owe them nothing.' Her accent changed, and even thought it was gravelly and deeper, it comforted me, like the Idris accent did. It reminded me of home somehow.

'Jace, don't.' Clary scolded. She turned to the older woman. 'If you know about the Forsaken, and the Shadowhunters, then could you tell me something about my mother?'

Dorothea shook her head, frowning. 'All I can say about her is to forget. She's gone.'

'You- You mean she's dead?' Clary's voice was so scared. I felt the urge to protect her again; I felt this tug on my heart, as if I felt bad about bring her into this world.

'No. She could be still alive.'

'I will find her.' Her voice had become stronger, but her hands had started to tremble. I moved to her side and lightly held her forearm. 'You understand that I have to find her. Now, before-'

'I am not going to help.' Dorothea held her hands up. 'Not if it's with Shadowhunters.'

'But you knew her!' Clary cried accusingly. 'She was your neighbor!

'Doesn't matter.' I put in, lazily, in the way Clary seemed to hate. 'Official Clave business. ' I tapped my lips, then paused dramatically. 'Though I could always come back with the Silent Brothers.'

Dorothea threw up her hands. 'Oh for the love of- You might as well come in. I tell you what I know.' She stopped on the verge of crossing the threshold.' But if you tell anyone that I helped you, Shadowhunter, you might not need you stele again.'

The threat shook me; The Inquisitor had said the exact same thing the day after my father had died. I smirked and tried not to show how rattled I was. 'Yikes. That wouldn't be good.'

'Yikes is right Jace Wayland.' She spat and walked into her apartment.

She knows my last name too? What the Hell. Where does she get this stuff? I never told anyone what happened with the Inquisitor, and it was in the middle of Alicante, which was immune to any sort of listening apparatus. I couldn't hold my surprise in; even Clary noticed.

'Wayland?'

'It's my name. I don't like that she knows it, though.'

'We might as well go in, right? What have we got to lose?'

I looked at her and blinked. 'When you spent any sort of time in my world, you understand no never say that again.'


	10. Tea Leaves

**Me: Here it is. Sorry it took kinda long to get out. Some stuff going on around my place. Anyway, here it is, you know the characters don't belong to be and whatnot. Don't forget to leave a comment. **

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As soon as I walked into Madame Dorothea's apartment, I could tell something was off. There was a sort of…energy in the room that hadn't been in Clary's apartment, which meant that it wasn't related to the Forsaken, but another sort of demon or demonic monster. It smelt like incense, strong enough to seem like it was covering something up, and posters hung on the wall, dead-like. The corners were curling, and the colors faded, but Clary still stopped to look at them. I kept myself just inside of the doorway, just in case.

The Lady, who had walked through a bead curtain, poked her head through again and saw that Clary was ogling her posters.

'Interested in chiromancy? Or just being nosy?' She asked, one eyebrow raised.

'Neither.' Clary replied honestly. 'Can you really read fortunes?

'My mother had a great talent for it; she could tell a man's future by his palm or at the bottom of his teacup. She taught me her tricks.' Her gaze slid over to me, and there was a strange weight to it. 'Speaking of tea, young man would you like some?'

'Pardon?' I asked, surprised.

'Tea. I find it both settling and helps concentrates the mind. Wonderful drink, tea.'

'I'll have some' Clary put in. I could hear her stomach growling a bit, and realized that she hadn't eaten anything since the coffee shop three days ago.

'Fine.' I grumbled. 'As long as it's not Earl Grey.' I frowned, remembering the last time I had had it. 'I hate bergamot.'

'You hate bergamot?' Clary asked, surprised.

'Is there something wrong with that?' I demanded. I turned away from her, trailing my bands on the books. The fact that I had told her something rather personal bothered me slightly.

'You may be the only guy my age I've ever met who knows that bergamot exists, let alone that it's in Earl Grey tea.' She said, sounding impressed.

'Yes, well,' I replied, with the knowledge I sounded conceded. 'I'm not like guys your age.' I picked a book off the shelf at random, and flipped through it, like I was looking for something. 'Anyway, it's require to take classes about basic medicinal uses for plants. I took mine at the Institute.'

'I figured all your classes were, I don't know, Slaughter 101 and Beheading for Beginners.'

I put down the book and picked up another one.' Ha ha, Fray.'

I saw Clary wince out of the corner of her eye. 'Don't call me that.'

I looked up from the book, this one about telling the time of death for someone using cat entrails, and frowned. 'Wand why not? That is your last name, is it not?'

Clary closed her eyes, and I knew she was thinking of Simon. Her entire body clenched up for a moment, and then she took a shaky breath and relaxed. 'No reason.' She lied.

'I see. ' I muttered. I put the book back on her shelf, resisting the urge to slam it down. I had been taught to never slam things. Ever. 'There isn't anything serious here. It has to just be a front for the mundanes.'

'Just because you don't do magic like she-' Clary began angrily.

My vicious scowl cut her off. 'First, I _don't do magic_. Get it though your head. Humans cannot do magic, ever. It's what makes us human. Witches and warlocks are part demon, which gives them magic. It's because _they_ have demon blood.'

Clary had her frown-with-smiling-eyes-face on for a few seconds, then said 'But I've seen you use magic. You use enchanted weapons-'

'I _use_ things that are magic. And just to be able to do that, I have to undergo rigorous training. The rune tattoos on my skin are to protect me against the magic of the tools I use. If you tried to use one of the seraph blades, for example, it'd burn you, and probably kill you.'

'What if I got one of the tattoos?' She asked timidly. 'Could I use them then?'

Aghast, I shook my head. 'No!' I nearly shouted. 'The Marks are only part of a whole. I had to train, take tests, ordeals, and the different levels of training were- look forget about it, alright? Stay away from my blades. In fact, don't touch any of my things without permission. '

'There goes my plan to sell them on eBay.' Clary muttered.

'Selling them on _what?' _ I demanded.

Clary smiled like she had the best secret in the world.' A magical place of mythical proportions.'

I blinked, then shrugged. 'Most myths are passed on fact, most of the time.'

'I'm starting to get that.' Clary murmured sarcastically.

The curtain rattled again and Dorothea stuck her head out. 'Tea's on the table, so there's no use for you two to keep standing there like donkeys. Come into the parlor.'

'There's a parlor?' Clary asked.

'Of course there's a parlor. Where else would I entertain?'

'Then I'll just leave my het with the footman.' I said under my breath.

The Lady shot me a dark look. 'If you were half has funny as you though you were, Jace Wayland, you'd be twice as funny as you really are!'

I thought about it for a moment. 'I may have just understood that.'

'Really.' Clary muttered as she walked through the bead curtain, following Dorothea. 'I understood it perfectly.'

I waited for a moment, then followed Clary, almost running into her. She was standing in the middle of the doorway, blinking, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Mine were already fine. In fact, I've always done better in darkness then bright situations. Even sunlight bothers me sometimes. The entire room, thought, was covered with things that made the room seem a lot darker then it probably was. Purple velvet hanging covered the back wall, from ceiling to floor. There were black curtains covering the windows and stuffed birds and bats were suspended from hooks in the ceiling, positioned as if in flight. The floor carpeted in dust, with a rug or two underneath. Armchairs surrounded a table with a pack of ribbon-bound tarot cards, a crystal ball and the tea. Sandwiches were also on the table, but I could smell the cucumber in them. No point in even taking a bite.

'Wow.' Clary flopped weakly into a chair. 'This looks great.'

'Have some tea.' Our hostess insisted. 'Milk? Sugar?'

I sat down primly and didn't even bother to look at the sandwiches more closely. I took my cup and sniffed it suspiciously. Not Earl Grey at least.

'Won't you have a sandwich?' Dorothea insisted, passing me the plate.

Clary looked over at me, and I gave her the plate. 'Cucumber.' I answered to her stare.

'I think cucumber sandwiches are the perfect compliment to tea, don't you' She asked of the air.

'I hate cucumber.' I muttered to my tea.

That didn't seem to bother Clary, though as she bite into one sandwich, finished it and took another within a minuet. Apparently these ones were delicious, not withstanding the cucumber.

'Cucumber and bergamot.' Clary pondered. 'Anything I should know about your dislikes.'

I though. There were many things I could add to the list. Demons for one, humans, the subway, wimps, Forsaken…The list when on for a while, but I only said one. 'Liars.' And took a sip of my tea.

The old woman sat her cup down and poured herself more tea. 'You can call me whatever you like. It might be true that I'm not a witch, but my mother was.'

Just as I was inhaling, of course. I almost spat out the entire mouthful, but once again, I had been taught not to spit out anything, not matter what it was. The tea was hot enough for it be endurance training anyway.

'That's impossible.'

'Why?' Clary asked. She took a sip of tea, then another bit of her sandwich.

I let out a breath and rubbed the back of my neck. 'Because they're half-human, half-demon. All witches and warlocks are crossbreeds. So that means they're sterile.'

'Like mules' Clary murmured.

'Your knowledge of livestock is mind-numbing.' I said dryly. 'But all Downworlders are in some part demon, but only warlocks have demon parents. That's why their powers are the strongest.'

'Vampires and werewolves are part demon too? What about the fairies?'

'Vampires and werewolves are the result of diseases brought by demons from their home dimensions. Most demon diseases are fatal to humans, but in these cases they worked strange changes on the infected, doing any real damage. And faeries, well, -'

'Faeries are fallen angles.' Dorothea picked up. 'cast down from Heaven for their pride.'

'That's what they say.' I shrugged. 'It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angles, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angles suppose to be, but they have a lot of cruelty and malice in them. And you'll notice that most of them avoid the midday sun-'

'For the devil has no power.' Dorothea interrupted again, speaking softly, with a lithe to her voice, 'except in the dark.'

I rolled my eyes and scowled. Clary opened her mouth, but Dorothea, just in time, saved me from any more questions by interrupting a third time.

'Enough about that. It's true that warlocks can't have children. My mother adopted me because she waned to make sure there'd be something to attend to this place when she was gone. I don't have to master magic myself; I only have to watch and guard.'

'Guard what?' Clary and I asked both at the same time. I looked quickly away when Clary glanced at me, smiling slightly, and Dorothea murmured 'What indeed.' The older woman reached for a sandwich, but Clary had gotten to them first and eaten the entire plate of sandwich. She saw the empty plate and just chuckled.

Clary saw Dorothea make a futile grab for a sandwich, and muttered an apology and set her cup down rather loudly, making me wince.

Of course, Dorothea jumped on the cup, almost literally, as soon as it was on the plate.

'Did I break it or something?' Clary whispered to me.

'Nah.' I muttered back. 'She's reading your tealeaves.' She seemed to be anyway. Dorothea was scowling and muttering, turning the cup around as she went. 'I guessed you weren't as skilled as you thought.' I noted to Dorothea. She grunted and grabbed my cup just as I was about to take a sip. 'Hey!'

She poured the extra back into the pot and turned my cup around once. 'I see violence in your future. Blood; you will shed and it will be shed around you, because of you and for you. You have a secret you know already. Your enemy is not a man, nor will it get you killed. You must kill it, though, if you have want of a normal life.'

'Not a man?' I relaxed back into the chair. 'But I couldn't hurt a girl.'

'I didn't say it was a girl.' Dorothea hissed as she examined Clary's cup again. 'I merely said it wasn't a man.' She put the cup down with enough force to crack the plate. 'This is useless. There is nothing here for me to read.' She turned and glared at Clary. 'Is there something in your mind that would stop my reading?'

'What? No!' Clary shook her head. But even she seemed unsure.

'Hey, now don't be hasty. There could be something. You said that you haven't had the Sight before this week, so maybe the-'

'_Maybe._' Clary snapped 'I'm just a late developer. And don't leer at me.'

'I'm not leering.' I snapped back.

'Not yet, but you were going to, I could tell.'

'Fine, so I was.' I gestured to he air, in defeat. 'But something is blocking your mind. It has to be.'

'Well, if your fight is finished, then let's try something else.' Dorothea interrupted, sliding the deck of cards on the table. 'Choose which ever one feels hot, cold or even seems to stick to your hand. Give me that card.'

Clary did so, slowly at first. None of them seemed to stick out to her, but when I brushed the card at the end Clary was coming to, it hit me like brick wall. The image of a woman, who looked like Clary, who had the same hair and skin color at least, came behind my eyes. She had her back to me, and when she turned around, she opened her eyes. They were the same color as Clary's.

'The Ace of Cups.' I heard Dorothea say, rather amused. 'The love card.' I blinked and the vision of the older-Clary vanished. The young Clary was sitting beside me still, and she was holding the card I had brushed up. Clary turned it around and looked at it. She smiled slightly. 'This card is good, right?'

'Not necessarily. Men do the most terrible things in the name of love.' The Lady's eyes glinted with a dark fire, and she raised her head slightly. 'But this card is powerful. What meaning does it hold to you?'

'My mother painted them.' Clary put the card back on the table, and I was tempted to touch it again, just to see if the older-Clary would come back.

Dorothea nodded. 'She painted all 52 of them. "A gift" she had said.'

'That's it.' I looked up turned to Dorothea, my eyes as hardened as I could make them. 'Did you know Clary's mother?'

Clary opened her mouth; presumably to tell me to stop being rude, but Dorothea started talking first.

'Jocelyn knew what I was, and I knew who she was. We didn't speak of it, but sometimes she would do favors for me, like this pack of cards, in return for information. Piece of Downworlder gossip. I was told to look out for a name every time. And that was it.'

The name floated up in my mind, hiding behind layers and layers of wall I tried to hide it behind. 'What name.' I demanded.

'Valentine.' She said simply.

Clary sat up immediately in her chair. 'But, you said-'

'And what are you taking about, "I knew who she was"?' Who was she?' I asked.

'She was a Shadowhunter. One of the Clave. Not anymore, but it was who she was. '

Clary was shaking her head. 'No no no.' Clary whispered.

'I wouldn't lie.' Dorothea had a sympathetic voice, but face wasn't overly kind. 'She chose to live here because-'

'It's a Sanctuary,' I finished. 'And your mother was the control. She made a safe house for Downworlder criminals. That's what this place is.'

'You _would_ call it that, wouldn't you?' She sighed. 'You are familiar with the motto of the Clave?'

'S_ed lex dura lex.' _It was automatic. Clary looked confused, so I translated.' The Law is hard, but it is the Law.'

'Yes, well, sometimes, the Law is too hard. My mother thought so and made this place.'

'So you're a philanthropist.' My lip curled involuntary. 'And no doubt that they pay you for it? Handsomely?'

Dorothea smiled, and her gold tooth flashed, on purpose most likely. 'You all can't get by with good looks.'

'I should report you to the Clave.' I snarled.

Clary stood up. 'You can't. You said you wouldn't.'

I stood up too and walked over to a set of velvet hanging that had less dust on them then the others while hissing furiously 'I never said anything. ' I tore them from the wall and pointed sharply. 'What the Hell is this?'

Clary came over, and pushed down my arm. I could feel her heat through my jacket. 'It's a door Jace. Relax.'

I looked at the door again. It had a bay window on each side and the metal of the door was pulsing slightly with a light that wasn't visible when you looked at it straight on. The doorknob was an eye and resembled the tattoo on my hand.

'Shut it.' I snarled again. 'It's a Portal.'

'It's a five-dimensional door.' Dorothea explained. Clary's look blanked and Dorothea explained further, 'It can take you anyway. It's an-'

'Escape hatch.' I finished angrily. I turned to Clary. 'You mother lived here to have an easy place to get away.'

'Then why didn't she leave the other day when-' Tears started to well up in her eyes. Her blank look turned horrified. 'Me. She stayed because of me.'

I knew what Clary felt and I didn't want her going through the same thing I did. 'There's know you can blame yourself.'

Clary pushed past me, and put her hand on the knob. 'I want to know where she would have gone.'

'Clary.' She yanked open the door. 'Clary!' I warned. 'NO!'

She turned the handle and pulled the door open. The space behind the door was cold and dark. And before I could even grab her hand Clary swirled away from me and into the void.

I jumped after her without another thought.


	11. Secrets Revealed

**Me: Um, hi again. **

**Crowd: WHERE WERE YOU? WHAT TOOK SO LONG?**

**Me: Hey, this chapter is pretty long! Think of it as my present to you for what ever holiday you celebrate. **

**Crowd: Fine! Happy Hanukah to you!**

**Me(How'd you know I was Jewish?) Oh, everything belongs to someone else, you know who it is. But, I'm wishing for Jace this year! ;) (Who isn't?)**

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I'd been through many things in my life, including this one time I'd been forced to hide in a washing machine and it had been turn on. But I'd never been through a Portal. It felt like falling, but I could feel solid ground under my feet. I could hear Clary screaming, loud and terrified. It cut off for a second, and then started up again when we came out in our dimension. We fell out of the sky and I could see the river and trees. I fell on her just as she seemed to be getting up. I rolled out of it, but Clary wasn't so lucky. She caught herself in the face with her knee and hit the fence.

'Ow.' She coughed, winded. 'What was that for?'

'I didn't _mean_ to fall on you.' I said back angrily. 'But I had to do something when you jumped through the Portal like a fool.' I stood up and brushed myself off. 'If you had gotten us in the East River, though, I would have been pissed.'

I reached up to help Clary up, but she swatted my hand away. 'You didn't have to follow me.'

'Yeah.' I muttered. 'I did.'

A silence followed as Clary looked around. Then she froze. 'I know this place.' She whispered.

You do?'

She looked over at me, her eyes wide. 'It's Luke's house.' She walked over to the front door and tapped a sign. It read "Garroway Books. Fine Used, New and Out-of-Print. Closed Saturdays"

'Is this his house or his store?'

Clary shook her head. 'Both. He lives behind it.' She looked around, like she was judging the distance between where we'd been before. 'Jace, how'd we get here?'

I shrugged. 'The Portal. You must have been thinking of Luke.'

'I wasn't thinking of anything.'

I shrugged again. 'Well, you must have been. We're here, aren't we?' I walked to the door, and tested the lock. 'Since we're here…'

'What?'

'What should we do?'

'Go back.' Clary spat. 'He doesn't want me here, remember?'

'Are you going to just take that?'

Clary, who was standing behind me, looking wistfully into the front window, shivered slightly. 'What's the other option?'

'We could go check out the house. If you have the keys, we could get some clues about why he doesn't want you here.' I looked at her questioningly.

'I don't, but he leaves the back door unlocked sometimes.' She pointed around the corner.

'Let's go then.'

We started around the house, going though the narrow space between the houses. There weren't any windows for someone to be looking down on us, but I still felt like I was being watched. I loosened another blade in my coat and gave another look around. 'You sure he isn't here?

Clary nodded slowly. 'Yeah. His truck isn't here. Besides, the store's closed and the lights are off.'

We reached the end of the ally and got to a chain-link fence the surrounded Luke's backyard. The yard was pretty sad, though; mostly weeds with a few flowers, dying from a lack of water in the heat.

'Up and over it is.' I murmured and stuck my boot into a space. It didn't take too long to get to the top, but the fence rattled loudly. I could see Clary looking around nervously for on-lookers.

When I got to the top, I stood for a moment, balancing on the very top of the fence and started into horizon. The sun was setting, sparking a flame in the sky. There was a slight breeze, and I could smell sweat. I froze, but when I heard someone breathing, I looked down.

There, in the bushes, was a skinny kid with glasses. He wasn't very hidden from above, but he couldn't be seen from either side. I sighed and dropped down, slightly to his left, landing softly. He heard me, but I gave him no time to react. I yanked him out of the bushed and shoved him against the fence, holding him in place with an elbow to his windpipe. The fence shook and a few seconds later, Clary dropped down, with a lot more noise, beside me. She took one glance at the kid and she gasped.

'Who are you?' I snarled. The kid was skinny, glasses and was wearing a t-shirt with some sort of bird-like crest on it. It was dirty and his pants were covered in loose particles of mud from kneeing in the shrubs. His face was clean scrubbed and he was wearing plain, black rim glasses.

'Shove the hell off, you pretentious asshole.' He shoved and tried to spin out of my hold. It didn't work.

'Simon?' Clary asked and crept closer to the boy. I blinked and actually looked at the boy. It was the same guy from the coffee shop and Pandemonium.

'Oh.' I sighed. 'And here I was thinking I'd found something of interest.'

'Hold on. Why were you hiding in Luke's bushes?' Clary reached out and brushed some dirt out of his hair with such gentleness, even with Simon's death glare, that I felt my eyes narrow and jaw clench. Simon swatted her hand away, and my jaw loosened.

'I can fix my own hair, Fray.' He shrugged off her second attempt to pick a stick out. We were on Luke's back steps, just under the overhang. Clary and Simon were sitting, and I was standing a few feet away, leaning against the side of the house. My head was bent down, the quintessential of a moody demon slayer, but I could see them through my hair. I wasn't trying to listen to them, but they weren't exactly whispering.

'Does Luke know?' She asked. 'That you're in his bushes, I mean?'

'I don't know about you,' Simon said, annoyed, 'but I'm sure Luke has a fairly stringent policy about random teenagers lurking in his shrubbery.'

'Luke knows you; you aren't random. ' I saw Clary's hand twitch slightly towards Simon, but she closed her fist to stop herself from touching him. 'At least you're alright.'

Simon barked a short laugh. '_I'm_ alright? Do you have any idea what I've been going though the past three days? When I last saw you, you were running out of that coffee shop like something was chasing you, and after you…You- disappeared. You never picked up your cell- you home phone is disconnected- then Luke told me you were off some cousins or something upstate when I _know_ you don't have any cousins. I though I'd done something to piss you off.'

'Why would I be mad?' Clary reached again, this time going all the way, and my jaw clenched again. It loosened again when Simon moved his hand.

'I don't know; I said it was something I thought I'd done.'

The way they were talking, it sounded like they'd spent years and years together. And not only that, but nights and days; it was like they'd spend so much time together they could have this conversations without words. There was a small catch in Simon's voice. Clary' voice had it too, but, like a reflection in a pond, it was distorted, different. I couldn't name the feeling that would cause a catch that wasn't tied to anger or pain. The word seemed to be at the tip of my tongue; I tried to spit it out, but all that came out was a cough. Clary looked over at me for a split second, the catch in her voice, which was mirrored in her eyes, hit me. I flinched like she had touched me, but kept my head down.

She looked back at Simon. 'We're best friends.' She muttered. 'I wouldn't be mad at you.'

'Yeah, well, apparently, we aren't friends enough for you to call me and tell me that you're shacking with some wanna-be dye-blond goth that you probably met at Pandemonium.' Simon gestured wildly in my direction. 'I spend _three days_ looking for you; hoping you weren't dead.'

'Simon, I'm not shacking up.' I saw Clary blush, even better than I would have been able to if the sun wasn't setting. I doubt Simon even noticed.

'Also,' I put in quietly, but still managing to sound like a "pretentious asshole", 'I am a natural blond. Unless, of course, someone's been dying my hair and not telling me.'

'So what have you been doing then?' Simon demanded. He already sounded less angry. 'Do you really have a second cousin Matilda who got swine flu and needed to be nursed back to health?'

Clary blinked. 'Luke actually said that?'

'No,' Simon took a deep breath and launched into the rest of his story. 'But he did saw you went visiting a sick relative and you phone wasn't working because you were out of the country. I didn't believe him, but he waved me off his porch. Then I came back here to see if I could find out what really happened. The only thing I saw was him packing up a green duffle bag like he was going somewhere. After that, I decided to stay around here until he came back. Or you did.'

I looked up at Simon and get a feeling of déjà vu. The exact same expression was on his face from Java Jones; the one that said he'd been trailing after this girl for years because he liked her and she hadn't noticed yet. I glowered him, and then frowned. Why was I getting parental over the fact that Simon liked Clary? She was nice, and pretty and…. I quickly clenched my fists. _Can't think about that now, Jace. _I yelled in my head. _You know what happened last time._

'So you've been here for hours because Luke decide to go on a road trip? Clary asked.

'He wasn't going on a road trip unless it involves killing someone.' Clary's face turned to one of surprise, then she closed her eyes. I just looked up.

'What kind of weapons?' I demanded.

Simon looked from Clary to me and his expression became angry again. 'Knives, a couple of daggers and even a sword. That's not even the strangest bit, though. It looked like some of them were glowing.' His became suspicious again as he realized that what he just said sounded insane. 'I'm telling the truth.'

I stood up from the wall. 'Do I looked surprised?'

Clary stood and faced me. 'I'm telling him the truth.'

'Fine.'

'Aren't you going to stop me?'

I shrugged. 'I can't tell him, but you can. Laws bind me, but no such law binds you. You can tell him what ever you want. You can even tell him that my hair is natural because by the look on his face, he still thinks I dye my hair.' I was rambling again. I shut my mouth and went back to leaning. Clary nodded and turned back to Simon.

'Alright,' she took a deep breath. 'Here's the truth.'

'That's so awesome.' Simon laughed.

It took about half an hour for Clary to tell Simon everything. The sun was gone and I had lit up my witchlight for them. My vision was still fine, but Simon had started to look uncomfortable when Clary had told him about vampires. Everything Clary had said to Simon I knew already, most of it I had told her, but I didn't care. It meant half an hour where I got to listen to Clary, not have to say anything, not have to do anything; I could just listen. I'm sure if I had shut my eyes, I would have fallen asleep, even though I was still standing.

When Clary had finished and asked Simon if he had questions, he shot off a bunch, which Clary had answered. But when he had asked if this was really all real, his reaction was not what I had expected.

'Awesome?' I asked.

Simon nodded enough to make it look like he was being electrocuted. 'It's like D&D, but- but real!'

'D and….D?' I asked. I left out of it, not something I left very often.

'It's a game.' Clary explained. 'You kill things as a vampire or elf or whatever.'

I pretended to understand. 'Are real dungeons involved? Because if you've found a good dungeon in Brooklyn, you should probably tell me.'

'No, not real dungeons.' Clary rubbed the side of her face. 'None of it's real.'

'Vampires are real.' Simon pointed out. 'But the real questions is; are they hot.'

Clary collapsed her head into her hands.

I shrugged. 'Some of them are, I suppose. It's not a rule, but something about the fact they're dead does add something.'

Clary stood up. 'Are we going to search this place? It's getting dark and we don't really have a way home right now.'

'Right.' I got off the wall and went to the door.

Simon looked at me eagerly. 'Is this the part where you kick the door in and then I rush in guns blazing?'

I pulled out my stele. 'First off, no, I don't kick down doors. Too messy. Second, who said you were coming?'

'I did.' Clary pushed Simon out of the way. She tried the door, but it was locked.

'Why do you think I have this stele if I don't kick down doors?' I traced the Open Rune about the door, and the lock clicked. Simon muttered something behind me, but I ignored it. I pushed the door and walked into the back room. It was filled with boxes and shelves, but a red glint of light in the far corner caught my eye.

'Jace, where'd you go?' Clary asked.

'Over here. I think you should look at this.'

She stood behind Simon, who pushed their way over to where I was standing. The red glint of metal was made by a set of manacles in the wall. The steel wasn't red, but the dried blood on them was.

'Are those-'

'Manacles.' Simon finished. 'That's kinda-'

'Don't say kinky.' Clary warned, cutting him off. 'Luke wouldn't have manacles for that.'

I touched the blood. It was dried, and turned to powder. I leaned closer and saw that the plaster was crumbling near the bolt that held the manacles to the wall. 'It seems that someone, probably the person that was in these manacles, tried to escape. ' I mused.

'I hope they tried to escape.' Simon muttered. 'They were chained to the wall.'

Clary shushed him and I shot him a look. 'Yeah, but look at the amount that the plaster was moved. The person in these manacles must have been absurdly strong.'

There was a small silence. It was a thinking silence at first, but as we all came to the same conclusion, it got more deafening.

'Do you think he's okay?' Clary asked in a small, quiet voice. 'Luke, I mean.'

'We'd better find out.' I whispered back.

We opened the door out of the back room, and came into his living room. The house wasn't cold, and I could smell old food coming from the kitchen. 'He's still here.' I murmured.

'There's coffee on the table. Still hot.' Simon called from the corner. Clary started to wander around, trailing her figures slowly over the books in the shelves. She made her way around the corner, and down the hall. I was left standing in the middle of the room, alone. Simon was looking through the fridge for anything edible, but from the smell that was pouring of the there, the things in there wouldn't have been edible weeks ago. There was a piano in the room, its keys rather dusty, but when I hit one of the notes, it wasn't too badly out of tune. Simon came back, and raised his eyebrow at me.

'Do you play?' He asked.

'Yes.' I murmured, still looking at the keys.

'Shoulda guessed.' He cleared his throat. 'Do you play anything else?'

'I know how to play the violin, the lyre, the harp, the viola, and most other string instruments.' I looked up at him. He looked flabbergasted, and then rolled his eyes.

'I play too.'

'What do you play?' I asked, my fingers starting to dance lightly across the keys.

'Well, I'm in a band, and I play-'

'SH!" I hissed.

Simon, who had fallen to the ground at my outburst, looked up. 'What?'

I looked wildly around the room for something to hide behind. I turned again and saw the screen. I shoved Simon behind it, and ran, quietly down the hall for Clary. She was just coming out of a bedroom, wearing clothes that fit her this time, looking rather content. When she saw my face, though, she looked worried. 'Jace! What is- Ummmph!'

I had clapped my hand over her mouth, and pushed her down the hall. 'There's someone coming.' I whispered in her ear. 'I heard the footsteps outside.'

We both got behind the screen, with barely enough time. The people had already entered the house, and come into the room just as my foot was getting behind out cover.

'So you're sure she didn't tell you anything about it?' A boy's voiced asked. It was sharp, but polite.

There was a clunk, the sound a dozen or so weapons makes when put down on a table. 'Yes.' It was Luke, I remembered it from the phone conversation. It was a lot more tired sounding though, and his voice was scratchy from something.

'She did tell you something?' It seemed the boy and Luke were the only two here, besides us.

'No, I mean, I'm sure she didn't tell me anything.'

There was a pause, and, with my stele, I used a Rune to make a sort of window. We could see through it, but the people on the other side wouldn't. I could see most of Luke, and the chest and chin of the boy. Luke was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, his glasses were quiet crooked, and there were bruises on his neck and arms, where the sleeves had been rolled up. He was young, but the look in his eyes was aged. There was an energy about him, but I couldn't place it. It was like when you smelt something you knew, but it had been changed slightly., another spice added. I tapped my chin, and looked at Clary. She looked alarmed at the injuries, but other wise just looked muddles. Simon was watching the boy with a strange expression on his face. He turned to me, and opened his mouth. I put my finger up before he said anything, so gesturing wildly, he made a box, and then spread his arms out. _Bigger_, he mouthed. _Make the square bigger._

I nodded and added another Rune. The square almost doubled its size, which meant I could see the boy. He was tall, white-blond hair, with was pin-point straight, and angelic features. He was muscled, I could tell that much, even under the long robe he was wearing. I he turned his head slightly towards us, and he looked right into my eyes. My hand shook slightly as I looked into his golden eyes, light as syrup. I knew he couldn't see me, but they was he looked was nerve –racking. He turned back to Luke, and gestured.

'Well, then if you don't remember anything, perhaps there is something I should tell you.' He straightened his back a little more, and turned away slightly. The robe rippled as he moved, the Runes that were on it glowed slightly, as if they were active. 'Valentine.' The boy whispered, as light and deadly as the breeze that transforms into hurricanes. 'Valentine is back.'

Luke snorted. 'I knew that. Who else would take Jocelyn like that? And then send their…' He paused, and looked the boy up and down. 'Who are you anyway?'

The boy turned back, and I could see his face again. He wasn't really a boy, though. His voice was too low for that, and his face too strong. It was familiar, though, the lightness of his bone structure, the color of his hair, but I couldn't place it. He smiled, dangerously. 'Jonathan Morgenstern.'

Luke blinked. 'No… No. It couldn't be. What's your middle name?'

'Christopher.' He fired back. He wanted Luke to know. You wouldn't just give your name around like that.

Now, Luke staggered back, and it the wall. 'It couldn't be! You're dead!'

'I, as anyone could see, am not dead. There are many things you will find out, Lucian, if you come back and join us. He needs a new army, and you'd be the perfect one. Someone he trusts.' I could see Luke's eyes slowly fading out, like he was remembering something. He was close to snapping…. I shifted, and Clary put her arm on me, like she was holding me back. 'Someone he cares for,' Jonathan whispered.

That took it too far. Luke's eyes narrowed, and his eyes became wolfish. 'I doubt Valentine wants me back after throwing me off his property and telling me to kill myself. After saying I was no longer his friend, not even a man.' He shook his head. 'Do not through out lies of which you don't know the consequences.'

Jonathan shrugged. 'Have it your way. If you don't join him, you can still have Jocelyn back. Her, for the Mortal Cup.'

'I told you that I don't know where the Cup is. And if I did, I wouldn't trade it for her.'

I glanced over at Clary. She looked worried and confused, but I don't think she knew if they were talking about her mother. It would have hurt to hear your mother's best friend saying he wouldn't want to save her. Simon, on the other hand, could have been given a bucket of popcorn and he could have been watching a movie. I turned back to the sense in front of me, and found Jonny Boy looking like he had just been seen kissing his sister. He seemed flustered and his face was red.

'I- I had been told, that you and Jocelyn, had, once-'

Luke snarled. 'Don't speak of things you don't understand. You weren't even alive to remember the Uprising, or the events surrounding it.' He moved closer to the younger man. 'Why did Valentine send you? You know nothing of what happened then. I know for a fact that he had people with him that know me.'

'Not any more.' He seemed pleased that he had the power again. 'My father saw traitors in all of them, and killed them all. It just him and I now. And you, if you'd wish.'

No.' Luke spat viciously. 'I'm not going back to him. Now, get out of my house.'

Jonathan shrugged, like he was born for it, and the put his hand where his belt would be. 'I could stop you. I may not know your past, but I know you weren't anyone for fighting, Graymark.'

Luke laugh was hollow. 'I hope you could, being raised by Valentine. The first thing he would have done was train his flesh for battle.' Luke picked up the bag of weapons and gestured towards the door. 'By your leave.'

Jonathan shrugged again, and raised his hood. 'If you hear anything, I'll be the first one to hear, yes?'

'I don't have anyone else to tell.' Luke sounded so tired at that.

They both walked out, and the door click shut. We waited for a minuet, then two. At three we all let out the breath we'd been holding.

It was over; they were gone.

The shock of overhearing the conversation was wearing off. Clary took her arm off of me, and sat on the small chair that was behind the screen with us, and Simon tapped his chin with two figures. Which meant I was felt there, my thoughts reeling.

Valentine was back? He was dead, or so everyone thought. Apparently, he was alive and well, planning things with his son. And Luke was a Shadowhunter? Graymark was a Shadowhunter name, and I'd heard it before, although, I couldn't recall where. I could feel the anger boiling up at some of the things they'd said, so I swallowed and I turned to Clary, who seemed shell-shocked, and Simon, who was surprisingly functional.

'Well, that was informative.' Simon said, his, straight-faced.

Clary turned on him. 'Simon, what are you talking about? None of that made any sense!'

Simon shook his head. 'It makes sense,' Simon continued, 'Just not right now. It will later. It happens in every plot, ever, with games. Fire Emblem, Kingdom Hearts, all of them.'

I had no idea what Fire Emblem or Kingdom Hearts was, but it seemed to make sense to Clary. 'Fine,' She snapped, 'But I need an explanation for what did make sense.' She turned to me. 'Jace.' But, when she looked at me, she must have noticed something. 'Jace?' She asked more quietly.

I turned my face towards the screen, and found it wasn't as angry as I'd thought it would be. There was fury in my eyes, but not as much as there would have been. As there should have been. What had changed? The monster that should have been raging inside was quiet, and I wouldn't thought I'd be able to stop myself from cutting the boy to pieces. I closed my eyes and turned back to her.

'I'm fine.' My voice was lower than usual. Most likely because of the anger. 'It's just.' I paused. I didn't want Clary to worry.

'What?' Clary asked, like she was talking to an unstable person. 'Do you know that guy?'

'No, but Valentine's the one responsible for the death of my father. If that was his son, I should have torn him apart.'

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**Happy holidays guys! Your present to me? COMMENT! **


	12. A Curious Detail

**Alright, I know this is really short, but I wanted to get this chapter off my chest before I lost my train of thought. **

**And, not forgetting, the things that belong to Cassandra Clare, Sir Arthur Connan Doyle and Pheonix Wright: Ace Attorney, belong to the proper people. Give them respect.**

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The walk was long an extremely uncomfortable. At least, it was for the first ten minuets, and then Simon started to whistle. Then it was just annoying.

After I had announced that that kid's dad had killed my father, Clary got the pitying look in her eyes that I hate. She reached out for my arm, and for some reason, I let her touch me. Only for a second, before I walked out, but still. I don't like it when people touch me or even are close to me, but Clary touch brings a calm to me I haven't felt in a while.

Usually, my heart beats silently and steady, and my nerves are steel. But, when Clary's around, my heart goes haywire and beats so quickly and loudly, I can hear it rushing in my ears. My nerves too, go all crazy. I get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I haven't eaten in weeks, and I feel feverish. But, the things she does to my head are the worst, and best. My mind, most of the time, is a horrible place to be, and I try to distract myself from thinking when I can. If I don't, I end up pondering the best way to kill another Shadowhunter, or Alec, or Isabelle, or the destruction of people in general. And, if I'm in a bad mood, it gets worse. But, I'm outside the Institute, and around humans, it's unbearable. It's like a thousand people speaking at once, and it just gives me an enormous headache, along with the almost irrepressible urge to kill and lay ruin. The kinship I feel towards demons, and the Downworlders is so disgusting; I'm nothing like them. But, I just can't help feel that spark of family whenever I'm near.  
Sometimes, I just want to end it all; get rid of the thoughts and pain I feel everyday, the aversion to sunlight, the pain I get when I use a stele or touch a Seraph blade, the strange changes and feeling I've been getting lately. The way my emotions don't affect me. Surprise, excitement, happiness; nothing. I don't get nervous, I don't trust anyone, feel joy unless I'm killing something. I only get angry. And if I do feel something, it's faded, diminished. Like I'm just going through the actions. It's like I'm dead, tormented by the feelings I had when I was alive.

But, most of all, the dreams. They haunt me for days afterwards. Dreams of killing, and dark desires I've never though I'd have. But, once I dream about it, it doesn't leave. Like a parasite, they latch on to my thoughts and spread their darkness though me. Hodge made me once a mixture that made them go away, but it didn't help for long. I can't get myself straight. I can't ask anyone; as much as I don't know if this is normal, I know it isn't something you'd just talk about.

But Clary, Clary brings my mind to a halt. She stops the insane feelings and sick thoughts. She settles me, in some ways. In other ways I become slower, my reactions and thoughts sluggish to what they can be. My heart goes wild and my nerves fire off randomly. And my head: it's like my thoughts change from _'Kill, death, destroy' _to '_Clary Clary Clary'. _I don't know how she does it. Like when she jumped though the Portal, my thoughts weren't _I have to tell the Clave about this_. It was _CLARY! Pleasedon'tbehurtpleasedon'tbehurtpleasedon'tbehurt. _Thinking about her first, and not me or my other Shadowhunters, may get me killed one day, but for now, I'm fine with it.

She makes me feel… Alive.

After about three minuets of Simon whistling, I stopped and clenched my fists. 'Can't you stop?' I asked through gritted teeth. 'It's hard to listen for things when your whistling is the only thing I can hear.'

Simon stopped. He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. 'Repeat that.'

'What?' I demanded. 'Like hell I'll repeat that.'

He shook his head. 'No, no, I mean, said it again. It sounded like… can you just repeat it please?'

'Simon.' Clary murmured quietly. 'I don't think now's the time.'

'Can't you stop? It's hard to listen for things when your whistling is the only thing I can hear.' I paused to look at him. 'Good now?'

He nodded. 'Now say Jonathan Christopher.'

'What for?' I yelled. The silent street seemed to shake with my voice as it rang out. 'Do you like me repeating my father's killer's son's name?' I turned around and spat on the ground. 'Sick bastard.'

'But it's your name too, isn't it?'

I turned back to him. 'What? How did you know that?'

He shrugged. 'You looked surprised and slightly sick when the guy said his name. Jace could be short for Jonathan I guess.'

Clary and I both just stood there, staring at him. 'Simon,' Clary said,' Have you been playing Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney again? You always get like this when you play that game.'

'Well, yes, I have.' Simon agreed,' But that isn't the point right now. I've noticed something about the way you talk, Jace. It sounds like the way the Jonathan guy talks. So, can you please say "Jonathan Christopher" so we can put my mind at ease?'

Clary rolled her eyes, and gave me small smile. 'Fine, fine,' I snapped. 'Jonathan Christopher.'

Simon nodded. 'Just like I thought.'

'What?' Clary asked

'The way Jace says his name is the same way Jonathan say it. They both go up a little at the 'Thin" and pause a bit after the Jonathan. And, you guys both kinda spit out the "Chris".' He shrugged. 'It's just something I noticed. Along with other words you said the same.'

Clary and I both started at him. I liked to think of myself as observant, but studying speech patterns? That was just weird.

'What?' He asked, looking from Clary to me, then back to Clary. 'I like to learn Voice Actors' voices, so I noticed things like now.'

'Simon,' Clary shook her head. 'You need to stop playing so many games.'

'But why would my voice do that?' I ask. 'We've never met before.'

'Well,' Simon pondered. 'It could be because you've both been around someone who said it like that: someone who said it all the time. Your mother? Maybe your fathers were friends?'

'Simon!' Clary whispered.

'My mother is dead.' I said coldy. 'And I hope you aren't suggesting that my father was friends with the man who killed him.'

Simon's eyes widened. I guess he didn't think that one through. 'No, I didn't mean that, but it makes the most sense.'

'No it doesn't.' I cut in before he could say another word. I started to walk away, suddenly Clary called me back.

'Wait, Jace!' She grabbed my arm, but this time I ripped it away.

'Don't Clary. You can't fix this, and now you're telling me that I'm linked to my father's killer? Just… Just don't.'

She tried to stay strong in the face of my cutting words, but her eyes held nervousness. 'No, I don't think Simon meant it like that. But…'

'What?'

'The way you walk.' She continued. 'It's like how Jonathan walked out of Luke's house. And the way you were standing there before. It eerie how much it looks alike.'

I threw up my hands. 'Well, we're all bloody Sherlock Holmes, aren't we now?'

Clary put her hands on her hips. 'I'm an artist, Jace. I'm suppose to notice small details.'

'Fine, then. I'm connected to him somehow. Happy? Can we just go back now? It's getting dark, and I shouldn't have to tell you what lurks in the dark.'

She nodded and bit her lip. 'But why would you be similar like that? It doesn't make sense.'

Simon raised his hand. 'Well, it could be from your training. Didn't you say you had to go through a lot of training, Jace? You could have learnt to stand like that as a training thing.'

'Yeah, but I learnt stance from my father when I was very young. How I stand let's me jump in any direction quickly, and lowers my center of gravity. The one that most Shadowhunters have is too heavy-footed. Their knees aren't bent enough, and they have their back too straight.' I stopped, realizing what I had just said.

'The plot thickens.' Simon muttered.

I clenched my hands again, and all the stress of the day started to creep up on me. 'Let's just go.'

And I stalked off with out waiting for them, almost running, like I could run off of the frightening reality that was being revealed to me.

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**Ahhhhhhuuuuugmmmmmmm... Sorry, yawn. Don't forget to comment. **


	13. Family Ties

**Alright, here it is! Hope everyone had a fun time during the holidays! You know this stuff doesn't belong to me. Comments are awesome!**

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All throughout the rest of the walk home, I had felt uneasy, like the things Simon had just said were going to be important, but I couldn't figure out why. I felt like someone was laughing at me, as I tired to piece together that it all meant. But, when we finally got to the Institute, I felt a little better, calmer. My thoughts went from '_What if Simon was right? Am I some who related to the Jonathan guy and Valentine?' _to '_What does Simon know? He's only known about my world for a couple hours. He's wrong'_. He and Clary were still talking in small voices as we went thought the church part, and up to the elevator. Went it came to a halt, Simon was quiet. He was looking around like he was seeing it for the first time. I threw my jacket on a table, but froze as I was taking off my boots. _Oh Hell. _I thought suddenly. _ He IS. I've just brought a mundane into the Institute. Hodge will kill me._ I stopped walking, tapping my fingers on my chin, thinking of a way to get out the trouble I'd be in. I was interrupted by a loud 'AAAGGGH!' I looked out and found Clary petting Church, and Simon standing at least five feet away.

'What?' I sighed, watching Simon flinch as Church meowed, and sprinted around the corner.

'I don't…. I don't like cats.' Simon shouted, like it would scare Church away. He wouldn't have to worry; Church was scared enough with just me.

'It's doubtful,' I responded at a more normal tone. 'That Church likes you either.' I turned back around and followed the scent of fish burning peanuts to the kitchen. Simon and Clary followed, but slightly behind me. 'Is that' Simon asked. 'Fish and burning cashews?'

'Peanuts, actually.' I answered, cautiously going around the corner to the kitchen doors. Just as I was about to open the door, there was a loud, resounding crash. 'CHURCH!' Isabelle screamed. 'You scared the Hell outta me!' I chuckled without smiling, and walked in. There was water all over the floor, and an overturned cutting board. The fish that had been sitting on the board was now in Church's mouth. Isabelle was standing in the middle of the room, waving a wooden spoon at Church. Finally, after she noticed Church wasn't listening, she threw the spoon at him. It bounced of the floor, and the cat scampered away. She followed the cat with her eyes, and when they landed on me, she jumped a little.

'Jace! I didn't hear you come in.' She stopped. 'Then again, I never hear you come in. Where were you? Hodge was getting worried.'

'Good for him.' I muttered, my black mood instantly brought back. 'What's there to eat?'

'I- I'm making soup.' She stammered, even as I went to the fridge and took out the leftover lasagna from three nights ago. She didn't stop me as I went and got a fork, didn't even say anything as I brushed right past her, and stepped over the puddle of water. She turned to Clary. 'Do you want some soup?' Then she blinked.

'Jace, who's this?' She sounded angry. I wasn't sure how long that'd last.

'It's Simon.'

'I'm old enough to introduce myself, thanks,' he spat in my direction. He walked up to Isabelle and held out his hand. 'I'm Simon. Do you want help cleaning that up?'

I don't know who looked more surprised at that; Clary or Isabelle. Although, while Isabelle still looked surprised as Simon grabbed the mop and started to clean, Clary look furious. Isabelle kept looking at him, and then turn back to me, arms crossed. 'Jace, is he a mundane?' She sounded angry again.

I shrugged. 'Yeah. So?'

'You know that mundanes can't come here! Hodge will-'

'Hodge,' I interrupted, 'Is who we're going to see right now. We need to tell him what happened.' I pointed to Simon. 'He's part of the story, so he has to be there.'

'Simon.' Clary asked quietly. 'Are you coming?'

'Mmgnnasayhre."

'Pardon?' her voice was still quiet.

He cleared his throat. 'I'm going to stay here. She needs help, and I'm hungry.'

Clary set her mouth into an angry, upset line, and looked down.

I leaned against the wall, and crossed my arms. 'There's no point.'

'Pardon?' Simon asked.

'There's no point in staying. If you think Isabelle will sleep with you, you're an idiot. If you think you even have a chance, you're a bigger idiot.'

Simon blushed, and Isabelle smiled.

Clary looked up. 'Jace, don't be so sadistic just because he's being nice.'

'I'm being sadistic,' I corrected, 'Because he wants something _from_ _being_ nice.'

Simon and Isabelle blinked in sync. Clary looked back down, and I stretched, like this wasn't anything out of the norm. 'I'm going to Hodge.'

I turn on my heels, and walked out. I stopped just outside the door, though. I knew Clary was going to follow me; there's no way she wouldn't.

'Are you always such an asshat to people?' She demanded as she came out, the door swinging shut behind her.

'An asshat?' I laughed.

'What you said to Simon-'

'I was trying to save him some pain. Isabelle will most likely cut his heart out and walk all over it with high-heeled boots.' I shrugged. 'It's what she does to boys like that.'

'Is that what you did to _her?_' Clary asked, so quietly I almost did catch it.

I leaned in closer. 'What?'

Clary shook her head. 'She seems afraid of you, like you're fragile.'

I tilted my head. 'I _doubt_ that fragile-'

'No, not fragile… It's like you're a one of a kind artifact, and if she's not carful, it'll smash, and she'll have to face the consequences.' Clary's forehead was creased with thought.

Suddenly, I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, I didn't want Clary to find out about the way I was when I wasn't with her. I knew I was different; Clary changed me. That's when a cold rational thought seized my mind. _Don't be stupid, _it snarled. _ People can't make you change. You're just being weak._ _This is the reason I should be in charge._ I clenched my jaw, and tilted my chin up. 'I don't know what you're talking about.' The voice in my head put the words in my mouth. 'If she's afraid of me, then that's her problem, not mine.'

Clary's frown deepened. 'I never said she was afraid.'

'She should be.' The voice was still speaking. I knew there wasn't anything I could do. It took control sometimes, and I couldn't do anything to sop it. And when it wasn't in control, it was the subtle influence that got me to react the way I did. When it was in control, I'd be on warpath for days. And for those days, everyone avoided me. Alec and Isabelle would disappear, and I'd go on missions alone. I'd be faster, stronger. I'd train if I weren't hunting; the one time another Shadowhunter had stayed with us, I had trained with him. He'd been hard-pressed to stop my attacks, and after three minuets, I won. He had come back a year or so later, when the voice hadn't been in control, and we fought again. At the end of the fight, which I had won, but barely, he said he didn't even recognize me.

Clary looked at me closer. Could she tell the differences between me right now, and before? 'Are you okay?' Apparently she could. 'You're paler and your eyes…' She reached out, but I turned away. My body wasn't even under my control. 'I'm not who you think I am, Clary.' I spat.

She looked away, and drew back her hand. 'No. You're not.'

I took a step, and stumbled slightly. Clary's arm, still slightly being pulled back, touched mine. In my head, the voice hissed, and vanished. I breathed deeply with the regain of control. I looked down at my hands. They were shaking slightly. 'Let's go find Hodge.' I muttered.

'Jace?' Clary whispered. 'Are you okay?'

_No, yes… I don't know_. I thought to myself_. I don't know. _I wanted to tell her everything. The whole thing, every scrap of memory I had, but I didn't. I didn't want her to leave; be scared away.

'I'm sorry for snapping.' She paused, waiting for an answer, when there wasn't she continued. 'You do it too, you know.'

'I know.' I sighed. Clary looked surprised. 'There's just something about you that's so….'

'Irritating?' She asked, smiling slightly.

'No.' I fished for the right word. 'Unsettling.' That didn't even begin to describe it. 'You… you've rocked the boat.' And I had no idea what the consequences were.

We were quiet for a bit, walking through the Institute. I had no idea where Hodge was, but I figured if we checked his usual haunts, we'd find him eventually. The piano room was closest, so we checked there first. Hodge couldn't really play anything, his hands weren't strong enough anymore, but he would come in here and tune the instruments, just to hear their pure tones, to remind him of the music in Idris.

'Jace?'

'Mm?'

'Are all Shadowhunters like you?'

The question caught me off guard. 'No.'

'So Isabelle and Alec don't fight like you do?'

Fight like I did? What did that mean? 'How so?'

'You fight like it's your only reason for being. You don't care if you live or die.'

How had she noticed that? Did I fight like that? 'No. Isabelle is good, very good. Alec… is Alec. He doesn't fight very much. He's never killed a demon.' As I said it, I realized it was true.

'Why not?'

I expected the voice to come out and bash him_. He's afraid, _it'd say, _a coward. _ But all I said was 'He protects us.'

By now we were at the green house. The doors were open slightly; the pattern of vines and leaves announced what lay behind them. When I pushed them open, the smell rushed out. It was like Idris smelt like; the burnt air of fall, trees and fresh air. Sun baked dirt, and cut flowers.

'Is this what Idris smells like?' Clary asked. 'It smells like….' She stopped.

'Home,' I finished. 'to me.'

I walked in and weaved through the hanging baskets, the tables and pots of flowers, shrubs, trees and bushes. Clary's eyes were so wide and she took in all the colors; vibrant greens of every shade. Blues, purples, violets and indigo that ere different depending on how the light hit them. Red, oranges and yellows like the rising sun. Every different shade of white; pearl, snow and even one flower that was the exact color of the full moon. Once we came to the middle courtyard, we found Hodge. He was staring into space, sitting on the stone bench, and book in his lap, forgotten. Hugo cawed softly at out arrival, and the marble fountain splashed water into a stone pool, the miniature waterfall throwing off colors as the sun hit it. I broke off a twig from a small tree, and twisted it in my hand. 'Hodge?'

He looked up slowly, with a smile on his face, but when his gaze slid to Clary, the book slid out of his lap, and his face blanched.

'What?' I turned to Clary, but there wasn't anything different about her.

'Forgive me,' He smiled weakly. 'I was lost in thought and you startled me. I wasn't expecting you to look so much like you father.'

'Mine?' Clary and I asked at the same time.

'Yes.' He nodded. 'I knew your father well. I spent years with him, and you just brought back some memories, is all.'

'My father?' Clary asked before I could. 'You knew him? But how? My father was human.'

'Not necessarily Clary. You said your mother isn't a Shadowhunter, so that means your father must have-'

'You mother was a Shadowhunter.' Hodge laughed, but nothing was funny. 'As was your father.'

'What? No! My father wasn't.' Clary's voice was getting higher with fear.

Hodge shook his head. 'Every Shadowhunter knows your father's name Clary, he came from a very well- to do family; he wouldn't have married your mother is she wasn't a Shadowhunter.'

'Who? Who is it?" Clary demanded.

'Clary, your father was Valentine.'


	14. A Nightmare of Mirrors

**A/N: Hey, I'm back again! Sorry for the long wait, but I made it extra long this time! Have fun reading. Don't forget to R&R!**

**And the stuff doesn't belong to me. You may have forgotten that after my vacation. **

* * *

I don't know who as more surprised; me, or Clary. We both started saying things; I was demanding to know if it was true, if he really had a wife. Clary on the other hand, was yelling about how her mother never had another husband besides the one she had been married to when Clary was around. About how it was impossible that Valentine was her father. It took a while to get Clary settled down and the room back into order, but when Hodge did, he told us about the Circle; the group Valentine has used to try and stop the Accords with a battle against unarmed, defenseless downworlders, a battle known by the Shadow world as the Uprising. That's when he paused. I knew most of the things he was telling us. Until he started talking again.

'We couldn't have stopped it,' Hodge sounded desperate for us to understand. 'By the time the Circle members found out how extreme the group was getting, we were too afraid to do anything. It hadn't started out that way; something had triggered a change in the man we all followed. And even if we weren't so afraid, it wouldn't have matter. Too many of us were loyal to the views. Pangborn and Blackwood were two of the worst, or best. And the Lightwoods-'

'Wait, the Lightwoods? Like Alec and Isabelle?' I asked incredulously.

'Yes.' Hodge nodded. 'They were part of the Circle. Although they didn't ever plan on leaving, like me, they helped the Clave when the Circle was disbanded. We gave names, helped with the capture of those who had fled. But, for all the help we gave, we weren't pardoned fully; the three of us, and Alec, were banished here. Mayrse and Robert can only go back to Idris on official business and for short times.' He paused. 'I can never go back.'

'That's stupid!' Clary burst out. 'Why can they go back, but you can't?'

'The Law is hard, but it is the Law.' Hodge and I whispered at the same time.

There was another pause. Clary was still angry about her mother; she was breathing angrily, and her arms were crossed. Hodge looked tired and I was doing my best to keep my face expressionless. If Clary's mother was Valentine's wife, did that mean that boy was Clary's brother? Half-brother at the least. Suddenly, I felt a suspicion towards Clary. Could she working for Valentine? _Jace,_ I thought to myself, _don't be an ass. Of course she's not. She can't even fight; how use would she be to Valentine?_

'What does he want?' Clary asked out of no-where. 'What's his ultimate goal?'

'He wants to summon the Angel Raziel and become the leader of a new generation of Shadowhunters.' Hodge sighed. It sounded like he had said this many times over. 'Valentine believes that the Clave is corrupt and wants to remake it with his own followers. '

'How?' Asked Clary. 'And what does this have to with my mother?'

'By using the three Mortal Instruments. Your mother had the Cup, so Valentine most likely kidnapped her to make her give it back to him.'

I could _feel_ Clary sort of _collapse_ in on herself as that little fact hit. It meant that her whole life was a lie. That everything about her mother was just a façade. I reached out to her, but the door was flung open and Clary spun out of my reach.

'Dinner time!' Isabelle sang.

'Dead God, have mercy.' Hodge whispered.

'I ate a pretty good lunch Isabelle, so-' I started, but she cut me off and crossed her arms. 'I threw out the rest of the soup, okay? I got Chinese. ' I moved to interrupt her, but she cut me off again. 'And I got your kung pao chicken'

'Awesome. I'm starving.' Isabelle rolled her eyes and I walked out, with Hodge following.

'Perhaps we shouldn't lie so much to Isabelle about her cooking.' Hodge suggested once we left the room. ' Then again, we both know Alec can't make toast, and I-' He stopped to look at his hands,' Have some troubles with it.' He didn't mention my cooking abilities. I'd never tried it before, but I was pretty sure it wasn't as hard as Isabelle made it out to be. 'We should probably be thankful someone even tried to look after us when Mayrse is gone.'

I shook my head. 'No.'

Hodge looked at me with surprise. 'You want to tell her the truth? I'm sure she knows she's terrible at it, but It'd still hurt, Jace.'

I shrugged. 'The truth hurts. That's the whole point. If they can't deal with it, that's their problem. If Isabelle doesn't know the truth of her cooking abilities, she'll keep wasting energy on pointless work.'

We had reached the kitchen at this point, and the smell of the edible food was good, even after Hodge's leftover lasagna. Hodge didn't say anything afterwards, so I began to imagine that I hadn't even said those words aloud.

'Jace!' I turned to find Alec sitting at the table, his plate already filled with food. 'When did you get back?' He asked.

I sat down beside him but keeping distance between our arms. 'Not too long ago. Why?'

'No reason.' He mumbled, suddenly grumpy.

I was going to push it, but Clary and Isabelle walked in, with Simon coming from somewhere. He was trying to walk beside her, but Isabelle sat down between Alec and Hodge before he could catch up. Clary sat beside Simon, but he was too busy ogling Isabelle to notice. Isabelle, on the other hand, was too busy listening to the things Hodge was telling her, the same thing he had just told us, and Alec seemed to be listening, between glares at Clary. I was the only one eating.

Eventually, after Hodge re-capped Isabelle, Simon and an only half-listening Alec, did they start to eat. 'I think it's rather romantic.' Isabelle shrugged.

Simon looked up immediately, and twisted in his chair completely to face Isabelle. I heard a disgusted noise from Clary. 'What is?' He asked.

'The whole thing about Valentine and Clary's mom. They were suppose to be dead, but now they're alive again, and he's looking for her. He probably wants to get back together.'

'I'm pretty sure he wouldn't send a Ravener demon after her if he wants to "get back together".' Alec muttered.

'It's not what I'd do.' I admitted. 'The flowers, then candy, the singing telegram and _then_ the rapacious hordes of demons.' I paused to think about it. 'In that order.'

'Maybe he did send her other stuff.' Isabelle said, 'We don't know.'

Clary shook her head. She looked like she wanted to scream with frustration. 'This is ridiculous. Valentine wouldn't send flowers to anyone. He's a crazy psychopath who loves destruction more then his own son.'

Isabelle and Alec both looked flabbergasted. 'He has a SON?' they both demanded.

I winced. I didn't want them to know about that. Clary and Simon both looked sheepish; I guess she hadn't meant for that to slip out. But strangely, so did Hodge.

'Enough, children.' Hodge sighed. 'I'm sure Clary was just using a metaphor. Now, let's finished our food, and I'll go send a message to the Clave to get some skilled and experienced Shadowhunters do deal with getting the cup, find Clary's mother, and the rest.'

I jumped up in protest. 'What? Why can't I do it? I am skilled; I have experience!'

Both Hodge and Alec shook his head. 'No.' Alec beat Hodge to speaking. 'You might be the best here, but there are better Shadowhunters out there. Valentine would kill you without a second thought; look what he did at the Accords. You couldn't beat him.'

'Fine.' I muttered. I could see Alec and Isabelle share a glance out of the corner of my eye. 'Then I at least want to look for Clary's mother. I started with that, and I'm going to finish it.'

'Well,' Clary said angrily, 'Now that we've got that all figured out, how are we going to find her? It's not like her kidnappers left us an address. '

I looked up suddenly. 'But we do.'

Everyone turned to me. 'We do?' asked Clary

I lightly touched my finger to her temple. It sent a shock down my hand. 'It's here. Under your pretty red curls, locked away in your head.'

'So you're going to cut her head open just to it?' Simon spat. It sounded surprisingly vicious for someone so in love in Isabelle.

'No, I'm going to cut yours open so you shut up. Then, I'll get the Silent Brothers to help her.'

Isabelle frowned. 'But I thought you _hate_ the Silent Brothers.'

I shrugged. 'If they'll help Clary, then I'll just get over it.'

Alec and Isabelle's eyes went wide. Clary glanced over at them, and looked back at me. 'How?'

'They'll read your mind, and bring up memories or thoughts you may have forgotten.' Hodge interjected. It sounded like he was getting impatient.

'I thought you said they were librarians?' Simon muttered.

'They are.' Hodge said curtly. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a letter to send.' He put his plate in the sink, and left.

'Wow.' Simon snorted, 'Those must be some killer late fees.'

Alec chuckled once humorlessly. 'You can make jokes; you can laugh. But, the Silent Brothers are the most feared of Shadowhunters. They may not fight like we do, but they can crack a man's head open with their thoughts and leave him screaming.' Alec paused to take a breath.

'I still don't see ho-' Simon started, but Alec cut him off. 'They have no need of lights, for they walk in the darkness. They have no need of mouths, for they do not speak. They have no need of eyes, for they see through the minds of others.' He cocked his head slightly. 'Afraid yet, mundane?'

There was an awkward pause. I hadn't ever head Alec say anything so poetic before. 'And you want to send me to them?' Clary demanded.

'No, Clary, they'll help you.' I insisted. 'They'll go through your mind and try and find any hints for clues.'

'I'd rather they didn't.' Simon snorted.

'Well, it's not really your call, now is it mundane?' Alec snarled coldly. 'And you know something else? We offer sanctuary for _our kind_. Not yours.' He nodded at Isabelle, who stood. 'I'll show him out.'

I nodded at both of them as they left, and before turning to Clary, I swear I saw a glance between them of surprise. They weren't they only ones who were surprised here.

'Jace, I...' Clary protested weakly.

I leaned in. 'Clary, even if we don't search for the Cup, we have to find your mother. Someone's hidden something in your mind and blocked your memories. You are a Shadowhunter and that means you should be able to see Marks and the Institute no problem.' I stopped for a moment, and leaned closer. 'Don't you want to know what's in your own head? The truth about your own life?'

'I don't want someone else inside my head.'

'I'll stay with you while they do it.' I offered, hoping, wanting her to say yes so bad it was pathetic, 'I'll be there.'

She stood up suddenly. 'I'm tired. I want to go to sleep.'

I stood up too, and reached out for her hand. 'But you hardly ate anything-'

She brushed it off. 'I'm not hungry,' She said, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

I flopped into the chair, and held up my head up with my hands. Why had I changed my mind so quickly to Hodge and Alec's demands? Usually I badger him until he let me do it, or found something else to go capture my attention. I looked down at my plate. Clary hadn't been the only one who hadn't eaten very much; I hadn't even touched my kung pao chicken. It was just too spicy this time. Isabelle and Alec had both eaten their fair share, along with Hodge, so there wasn't much left. The mu shu pork, though, still had half the dish full. Absently, I took my fork and started to eat some of it. _This is better then I remember. _ I thought to myself. I kept eating it while I started to clean up. I finished putting the plates away, and the cutlery, when Alec came in.

'Clary's sleeping in the hallway, so don't trip on her.' He announced.

I turned to him and frowned. 'You left her sleeping in the hall way?'

He shrugged. 'She seems fine.'

'Alec, we have over two hundred rooms, and she's sleeping on the floor? I'll go get her a room; I doubt she wants to stay in the Infirmary.'

I went to leave, but Alec grabbed my arm. 'Jace, stay here, she's fine. If she wakes up and asks for a room, then she can have one.'

'She can't sleep on the floor, Alec.'

'Why not? You do all the time.'

How did he know that? It was true; the dreams weren't as bad if I was on the floor.

I pulled my arm out of his grip. 'I can't expect her to be me.'

And just the door swung shut, I could hear Alec say 'But you expect everyone else to be.'

It wasn't had to find her. She was right in the middle of the main hall, and almost took up the whole thing. I crouched down beside her, and put my hand on her shoulder. That woke most people up, if I didn't feel like scaring them. Clary didn't even flinch. Her face was so peaceful in sleep, but she looked lost. Clary was one of the few people I knew who weren't "looking for themselves", I know I was still "soul searching". But asleep, Clary looked like a small child whose mother had forgotten her somewhere, but the shock of being left hadn't hit yet. She knew there was something wrong, but she didn't know what.

I picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other behind her head, my skin tingling as hers touched mine, and carried her to the first room I found with an unlocked door. When I opened it with my foot, I had to shift Clary slightly to get my foot high enough. But when I did, I noticed how snug against me she was, how cuddled up. I smiled as I opened the door, and when I put her on the bed, she rolled around slightly, as if she was looking for me. Just looking at her sleeping made me want to myself. I hated sleeping usually, but she looked so peaceful. I covered her with the comforter and gave her once last parting glance before I left for my own room. It wasn't that I was very tired, but Hodge was probably sleeping, so he couldn't send me on a late night mission. I stripped to my boxers once I got to my own room, only a couple doors down from Clary's, and flopped onto the bed, my eyes shut.

'I'm not even tired,' I yawned. Wait, did I just yawn? Well, that was new. But, even if I was yawning, it didn't mean I was going to fall asleep.

_Annoyed, I opened my eyes, and got out of bed. My Shadowhunter gear rustled as I walked and the door squeaked when I opened it. But, instead of walking out into the hallway, the door opened into a valley, mountains on either side, forest to the north and a lake to my right. The grass was almost too green, and the sky was azure. As I turned behind me, I caught sight of someone. Someone with red hair. _

_ The girl was running, and seemed to be calling me over, so I started to run after her to catch up. At one point she turned to me, although her face was hidden by her curtain of hair. _

_ 'Hey, slow down!' I called out. I wasn't sure how she could be running faster than I was, but I wasn't getting any closer. _

_ 'No!' The girl yelled. 'Stay away from me!' _

_I slowed to a stop. Why was she running from me? I watched her run into the forest area, and just as she disappeared from view, I heard a scream. _

_ The scream jolted me, and I started to run again. I sprinted through the trees, almost hitting rocks, and running through bushes in the half-light, until I found her. She was on the ground face-down, but her head was turned away from me. _

_ 'No!' She whimpered, 'Go away!' _

_I knelt down, and reached out to help her up. 'Why are you running from me? I won't hurt you.'_

_ 'I'm running because I'm scared.' She whispered, shuddering to the touch of my hand on her back. There was something on her there; the light fabric of her shirt was darker. _

_ 'Why are you scared of me?' I murmured as I pulled my hand back. I could barley see what coated my hand, but I could smell it. Blood. _

_ 'She's not scared of you.' _

_I flipped around to find that the trees and plants of the forest had gone. It was a large basement room now; the outside walls of rough stone, but the ceiling, floors, interior walls and the stairs were all made of a fine mahogany wood. I looked back behind me to find that the girl was gone, but her blood still stained my hands. _

_ 'She's scared of me.' _

_I twisted again, to find the speaker was standing right behind me. I stood and backed up, and his actions mirrored mine. The basement had changed again. The walls were now mirrors, and I saw the boy reflect my peering around and the look of wonder in my eyes. In every mirror, I saw myself; golden curled hair grazing the bottoms of my ears, chipped incisor on the left side, amber eyes, muscled and powerful. Every turn I made was echoed by my reflections and the boy. _

_But as I watched him more closely, something became clear; the boy was _me.

_Something, though, was off. Little details that made up how I am were twisted and warped. He was taller than I was, and more built. He was handsomer; his face full of sharper angles and more defined bone structure. His hair was whiter and longer, his tooth wasn't chipped. He was paler, and the scars that marked our race were more apparent. _

_His eyes were blacker than death, and held no sparkle of life. _

_He was the black knight to my golden paladin. _

'_Are you me?' I asked quietly, and he laughed._

'_No. You're _me!' _He shouted_ _and laughed again._

_That's when I noticed the gilded mirror frame around me, just like on all the other reflections. _

_The dark me walked to the middle of all the mirrors and glared at each on of them. Of me. 'You will obey me!' He roared. _

_I shouted my acceptance nodded alone with the rest of them. _

'_You will submit to my rule!' _

_This time, I managed not to agree._

'_You will follow my commands!' _

_And, while everyone else did as he said, I shouted something different. _

'_NO!' _

_He turned to me. 'What did you say?' _

'_I won't follow you.' I yelled rebelliously. _

_He pulled out the _kindjal_ and smiled savagely. 'Then I guess we have no more use for you!' and rushed to the mirror with unearthly speed. He slashed the mirror and it shattered to a million pieces…_

I woke gasping for breath. I was covered by a sheen of sweat, and my heart was racing. I untangled myself from the covers and stumbled to the bathroom. I missed the light switch on the first try, and steadied myself on a cool and slippery piece of wall. When I turned on the light, and saw the mirror, I puked and fell to the floor.

I sat there for a moment, waiting for the dizziness and light-headedness to pass. I stood again, but avoid the glass. I was just in my boxers, and the blood on my hands was gone. The semblance of the girl to Clary was frightening, and I shivered. I quickly got into the shower, and turned the water as hot as it would go.

I got out with perfect timing. I had just wrapped myself in a towel when someone knocked on my door. Hodge. I opened it halfway.

'Yeah?'

He seemed surprised that I was already up. 'Ah, the Silent Brother Jeremiah is here. He's in the library. Could you get Clary?' His eyes were fixed on the scar I had on collarbone.

'I'll get changed first. As much as she'd undoubtedly appreciate this, I think it's better to be wearing something other than I towel with the Silent Brothers around.'

He nodded and shut the door. I quickly changed into an old long sleeve and jeans. I slipped my stele and two blades into my back pockets and walked to Clary's room. It was quiet inside except for the sound of her breathing. It seemed frantic. I grasped her writs, and whispered 'Wake up Clary.' The reaction was immediate. She jerked her hands and sat up. 'Jace?'

'Yeah.'

'Let go of me.'

'Sorry.' I felt hurt by the fact that was the second thing she said. 'You tired to hit me the second time I said your name.' I lied. I felt like I needed an excuse to touch her.

'I'm a little jumpy I guess.' She looked around. 'How did I get here? I don't remember…' she trailed off.

'I found you asleep on the floor in the hallway.' I lied again. 'Hodge helped me get you into bed.' More lies. 'Thought you'd be more comfortable in a guest room than in the infirmary.' At least that was the truth.

She shook her head, and the action reminded me so much of the girl from the dream that I felt sick again. 'Wow, I don't remember anything. What time is it anyway?'

I looked out the window. 'About five.'

'In the morning? You'd better have a good reason for waking me up.'

'Why, were you having a good dream?'

Her eyes glazed over slightly. 'I don't remember.'

'One of the Silent Brothers is here to see you. Hodge sent me to wake you up. Actually, he offered to wake you up himself,' Again, lies. 'but since it's five a.m., I figured you'd be less cranky if you had something nice to look at.'

'Meaning you?'

'What else?'

Her head dropped into her hands. 'Get out.' Her voice was muffled. 'Get out so I can change. '

I hadn't thought my joke was so bad it would offend her, but I left and found Church prowling the hall.

'What do you want?' I hissed after a minuet or so of watching him pace.

He meowed painfully, like he was scared. 'What's with the cat?' Clary asked as she came out.

'The Silent Brothers make him nervous.'

'Sounds like they make everyone nervous. 'She grumbled.

I smiled slightly, but didn't respond. The halls to the library were silent. Even Clary seemed to have quieted her footsteps. When we got to out destination, all the lights were off. Clary halted for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but I kept walking until I was sitting in my usual chair. Hodge was behind his desk, and the Brother, who must have thought it was clever to crouch in the shadows, was a few feet away.

_I may _be_ hiding from her, but at least I have nothing _to hide_ from her._ Jeremiah's voice slid into my head. _So unlike you, Jonathan Christopher. _

I clenched my hands in fury. Who did he think he was, coming into my head like that? _ Then come out the darkness, if you're not afraid. _ I thought as loud as I could.

_Very well. _And he came robe hid his entire form, from head to toe. The cowl was deep enough that the shadow it brought camouflaged his face. The Runes inked on the robe its self were the color of dried blood.

_Still hiding in your hoods, I see. _I snarled in my thought.

_Perhaps _you_ should get a hood, young Shadowhunter_. The monk suggested. _It would help keep some of your secrets in check. _

Hodge glanced between the Brother and I, like he knew the conversation we had going. He have me a stern glance, and gestured with one of his hands. 'This is Brother Jeremiah of the Silent City.'


	15. The Bloodied Stars

**I am back! Well, sorta. Hope you don't mind the long absence. Well, best get back into the swing of things! **

***Ahem* All characters and plot and whatnot belong to Cassandra Clare. **

**There. How was that? Oh, and I hope you remember that I love ratings and reviews!**

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Clary bowed her head slightly as she spoke 'Hello.' Her voice shook, and she tensed up as he took a step towards her. I got out of my chair, and crept around, so I was behind Clary. _No need to scare her._ I thought to the Brother.

_Perhaps I'm not the one who's scaring her?_ He mused in my head. I frowned but kept my mouth shut.

'I sent the Brothers a letter last night requesting their help in recovering your memories, Clary.' Clary looked anxious and Hodge was trying to sound as comforting as he could. 'You don't have to do this; it's your choice.'

She looked conflicted. I'm sure Clary wanted to know what was hidden in her own mind, but the Brother weren't the most pleasant way to find out what memories were blocked.

_This is Jocelyn's daughter, correct?_ Jeremiah's voice was quieter in my mind. Like he was talking on the other side of the room. It surprised Clary; it would have been louder in her own head. She took a step back, and brushed me slightly. I felt my nerves calm slightly.

'Yes.' Hodge paused, then added quickly. 'But her father was a mundane.'

_It matters not._ The Brother thought. _Our blood dominants._

'Do you know why mother?' Clary asked. 'Why did you call her Jocelyn?'

'The Brothers are the keepers of exhaustive records on all the Clave's members .' Hodge explained. 'They-'

'They can't be all that exhaustive.' I said. 'They didn't even know she was still alive. '

_She must have enlisted the help of a warlock for her disappearance. Escaping the Clave is not so easy._

_How is that hard? _I thought. _You change your name, stop using Runes, don't fight Demons and they'll never find you._

_Do not underestimate the might of the Clave._ Jeremiah's voice had an edge to it, like he was angry. _Where we may have failed in the past, we have long made up for._

_How?_ I laughed in my head.

_You should look into your own failures and your own past, before judging the past of others._ The Brother said it in my head with such finality, like I was a small child being dismissed from his father. I wanted to say something back, but we couldn't be arguing while he was suppose to be helping Clary.

_Good. _Jeremiah thought to me smugly. _You are learning._

'Hold on.' Clary interrupted before I could think anything back. 'I don't understand why Valentine would think my mom had the Mortal Cup. If she really did disappear, why would she bring it with her?'

'As Valentine's wife, Jocelyn knew what he could do with it. She wanted to stop her husband from completing his evil schemes.' I muttered to Clary.

Hodge sighed. 'Yes, that is the main reason. She didn't think the Clave would protect it well enough, so she took it herself. I'm sure the Clave would have come after her if they thought that she could have been alive.'

'Maybe,' Clary grumbled. 'The Clave should invest in dental records, just to be sure that everyone who's thought to be dead, is really dead.'

Something raged in me. 'My father's dead.' I growled. 'I don't need his teeth to tell me that.'

She turned to me. 'Oh come one Jace, I didn't-'

_Enough. If you are patient, you will hear the truth from the lies._ And with that, the archivist lowered his hood. His head was void of hair, and his face only had indents where his eyes once were. His mouth was stitched all the way across, sewn shut. I heard Clary stifle a gasp.

_We, the Brothers of the Silent City, do not lie. _His voice was now a thunder in my mind. _If you ask of me the truth, you will get the truth. But, only if you give me the truth in return._

' I won't lie to you.' Clary tilted her chin like she was offended.

_One's mind cannot lie._ He took a step closer to Clary, and so did I. _I want your memories._

With him so close, I could smell the suffocating odor that lingered on all of the Brothers and in their City. It was the smell after Marking someone. 'Wait-' Clary panicked.

'Clary.' Hodge was even more gentle than before. 'You have memories that have been blocked, or repressed that will help us greatly. Even the ones formed when you were too young to really have a memory could help. Brother Jeremiah will try and access them. '

That didn't seem to help Clary. She bit the inside of her lip, and didn't say anything. 'She doesn't have to do this if she doesn't want to.' I asked suddenly. 'Right?

'I'll be fine Jace.' She tried to smile at me when she said that, but she still looked too nervous. 'I'll do it.' She turned back to the Brother, and before she could ask anything else, he had his hands on the side of her face, lightly touching her temples.

I could tell the moment that he started to invade her head. Clary's expression went from slightly worried to outright panic. Her hands clenched so tightly, I thought her nails would cut her hands. I could feel a slight pressure on my own mind; what ever the archivist was doing in there was affecting me too. He must have been trying to push past the block, and instead of breaking it down, it was just bouncing off. A shock hit my mind, and I felt dizzy. The room spun, and instead of the books, I saw the walls of my old bedroom. _Jonathan, you were the final piece of my puzzle, but you didn't fit._ It was my father's voice now, instead of Jeremiah's. He had told me that once while he thought I had been sleeping. I had forgotten about this. _Now, I will unleash you, and you will wreak havoc on the Clave, but not in the way I had planned._ His voice was harsh, and he sounded ashamed of me. _You are my failed son._

'Enough!' I yelled out.

'Jace.' Hodge muttered disapprovingly. He must have thought I meant for Clary. I had forgotten about her. The books slid back into focus, and so did Clary. I glanced down at her hands, which were scored with the marks of her nails.

'Look what she did to her hands.' I gestured, and Clary closed her palms to cover the scored lines up. 'Are you alright Clary?'

She nodded slowly. I could see a slight seen of sweat on her face, more from fear then anything else.

_You memories have been blocked. Your memories cannot be reached. _The Brother thought.

'So it's true.' I muttered. 'Can you tell who did it? And why?'

_No. The block is from a spell, but my power alone cannot find the patterns in the spell to confirm who did it. She will have to come before the Brotherhood, in the Silent City._

'A spell?' Clary must have thought it was a joke. 'Why would someone put a spell on me?'

None of us could answer. It did seem like something out of a child's tale; the innocent girl's memories hidden from her by an evil spell. It felt like a dragon would come flying through the window with the prince any minuet, or an oracle would come and tell us that Clary had to partake in an adventure through a malevolent dungeon. Or maybe, I thought, thinking of Brother Jeremiah, one already has.

'She doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to, right Hodge?' I asked, turning to my tutor.

'No, Jace, it's okay.' Clary took a deep breath. 'I'll go. I want to know the truth.'

I felt a dread creep into my head. Clary, going to the Silent City, alone? I got the feeling that it wouldn't end well, that disaster would come from her trip there. Maybe I should follow them, I thought. Just in case.

_Or_, Jeremiah thought to me. _You could just come._

I nodded, even thought the Brother couldn't see it. 'Okay. I'm coming with you Clary.'

We left a few minuets after the archivist. Things like temperature didn't bother the Silent Brothers, but the air out the Institute was hot enough to make me want to linger inside as long as I could.

'How are we getting there, anyway?' Clary demanded. Even though we weren't outside yet, she was grumpy.

'The Brother's have their own way of getting around. I imagine that we're catching a ride with Jeremiah.'

Clary shuddered slightly at his name. 'One second thought, maybe I don't want to go. One Silent Brother is creepy, but a whole city of them will be-'

' Terrifying?'

'Some thing like that.' She turned to me, and jumped a little.

'What?' I asked.

'You- you look different.' She peered closer, but I shrunk away. I threw a glance into a nearby reflective surface, my earlier dream forgotten. She was right; my eyes had changed again. The middle was light than the outside; it was like I was being swallowed by darkness. Even my hair seemed to be darker. There was a moment of silence.

'You know, I'd feel a lot better about this if Hodge had come with us. ' She muttered.

'What, I'm not protection enough for you?'

Clary frowned, just a small crease in her forehead. I got the sudden urge to smooth it out. 'It's not protection I need right now- it's someone who can help me think.' The crease disappeared, replaced by surprise. 'Oh, Simon!'

It was my turn to frown.

'No, I'm Jace. Simon is the weaselly little one with the bad haircut and dismal fashion sense. '

'Oh, shut up.' Clary shot back, half-assed. 'I meant to call him before I went to sleep. See if he got home okay.'

I glanced upwards and sighed. 'With everything that's going on, you're worried about Weasel Face?'

'Don't call him that. He doesn't look like a weasel.'

I nodded. 'You may be right. I've met an attractive weasel or two in my time. He looks more like a rat.'

'He does not-' Clary started.

'He's probably at home lying in a puddle of his own drool. Just wait till Isabelle gets bored with him and you have to pick up the pieces.' I interrupted before the argument over Simon's face started again.

There was a slight pause. 'Is Isabelle likely to get bored with him?' Clary asked tenderly.

I had to think about it. There was always the chance that something in Weasel Face might capture her attention. Maybe he rides a motorcycle, and completely disrespects his parents; if he did, Isabelle would be all over him faster than Hodge is on leftovers. Bus, seeing as it was Simon we were talking about, that was completely unlikely. 'Yes.'

There was another pause. Clary had turned slightly away from me, but I saw her profile was pensive. Which slowly turned to mild horror.

I asked what she was thinking about. She didn't respond right away and when she turned back towards me, I could tell she hadn't heard the question.

'What?' She asked, slightly annoyed as she saw the smirk on my face.

'I wish you'd stop desperately trying to get my attention like this,' I chuckled. 'It's becoming embarrassing. '

'Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt.' She whipped back.

'I can't help it,' I shot back, equally as quick, 'I use my rapier wit to hide my inner pain.'

'You pain will be outer soon if you don't get out of traffic.' She gestured for me to step back onto the sidewalk. 'Are you trying to get run over by a cab?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' I scoffed. 'We'd never get a cab that easily in this neighborhood.' I turned to the left, where the Silent Brother's transportation was coming prowling around the corner. I had heard the engine, and couldn't resist the chance to impress Clary. And judging by her face, she was impressed.

The car rode low to the ground and the whole thing was totally black. Well, it looked like a car. The exterior swam for a second, then settled into the sight I was expecting; a large, gothic carriage with velvet window covering and tinted glass. Jeremiah was sitting on the stainless steel driver's bench holding leather reins that connected to two black as smoke horses. The two animals were shaking their heads and neighing at the cars. I turned to Clary with a question in my eyes. She nodded slightly and relaxed visibly. I could tell she saw through the glamour when her expression changed to one of wonder and a small amount of fear.

I jerked my head towards the transportation. 'Get in.' Clary didn't move, so I gently pushed her in. The Brother was getting impatient. She let herself be escorted in, and I swung myself in after her. I fell back into the seat as the carriage began to move. 'A personal escort to the Bone City is nothing to turn your nose up at.' I told her.

'I wasn't turning my nose up.' She muttered back, slightly still dazed. 'I was just surprised. I was expecting… I mean, I thought it was a car.'

'Just relax. Enjoy that new carriage smell.'

Clary rolled her eyes and turned to admire the view. I didn't bother; the way the horses flew over the cars made me a bit carsick. There was a clatter as the horses jumped over a cab. 'I always thought cab drivers didn't pay attention to traffic, but this is ridiculous.' Clary said weakly.

'Just because you can see through the glamour now…' I let the end hang open.

Clary shrugged. 'I can only see through it when I concentrate. It hurts my head a little.'

'I bet that's because of the black in your mind. The Brothers will take care of that.'

'Then what?' Clary sighed.

I smiled wolfishly. 'Then you'll see the world like it is- infinite.'

'Don't quote Blake at me.' Clary scowled.

My smile dropped a little. 'I didn't think you'd recognize it. You don't strike me as someone who reads a lot of poetry.'

'Everyone knows that quote because of the Doors.' Clary said it like it was an obvious fact.

'The Doors?' I just stared.

'The Doors. They were a band.'

'If you say so.'

'I don't suppose you have much time for enjoying music,' Clary thought aloud. 'In your line of work.'

I shrugged. 'Maybe the occasional wailing chorus of the damned.'

Clary shot me a quick look. 'But you were playing the piano yesterday,' She started, 'at the Institute. So you must- '

Clary stopped as the carriage jerked forward. She grabbed the edge of the seat and looked out the window again. There was a slight pause. Clary seemed to be mesmerized by the sight outside.

'I was just messing around,' I avoid looking at her, not wanting to taint her face with memories of my father. 'My father insisted I learn to play an instrument.'

'He sounds strict, your father.' Clary's voice was sad.

'Not at all.' I snapped. 'He indulged me. He taught me everything- weapons, training, demonology, arcane lore, ancient languages. He gave my anything I wanted. Horses, weapons, books, even a hunting falcon.'

There was another pause. Longer this time. I could tell Clary was summoning up the courage to ask me something.

'Jace, why didn't you tell Hodge about the boy at Luke's house?' She asked. 'I'm sure Hodge could have used that information.'

I looked down at my family ring. The silver was heavy and worn; the stars pattern that covered the band had scratch marks all over it. It brought back so many memories; I wasn't even sure why I wore it, really. 'I didn't want Hodge to think I was only doing this for personal revenge.'

'Then why are you doing this?' She demanded quietly.

'For justice.' I answered immediately. 'And to help you.'

'But why? Why would you help me? You don't even know me.'

'Because if I help you, maybe I'll get some answers. You have ties to Valentine. If you can unlock your hidden memories, maybe I can find him.' My fists and jaw clenched. 'And kill him'

'So you're helping me only to help yourself?' Clary replied coldly. 'So you can go kill a man who did the same to your father?'

I clenched my hands harder; she didn't understand. 'I was 9. Two men broke into the house at night. They had swords, and were dressed for battle. My father wasn't expecting anyone; they caught him off guard. I hid under the stairs, like he told me. That was the last thing he ever said to me. The smell of his blood was everywhere, and I puked' I stopped. I hadn't meant to say that. I turned to the window saw my reflection; I looked like a vampire. I squeezed my eyes shut.

'Jace. Jace, I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't kno-'

I flipped back to her. 'How could you? You didn't ask. You don't care about us, Clary. You only care about getting out of here and finding your mother. We mean nothing to you; we are the boat to cross your river of problems.'

'You're wrong.' Her voice shook, but there was underlying steel in it. 'You do mean something to me. You've all helped me, I do care.'

I closed my eyes again. 'Yes, yes I know. I didn't mean that. Sometimes, I… I just explode like that.'

'Is that why everyone is afraid of you?'

'You've noticed?'

She bit her lip and nodded. 'Sometimes, it's like you're two different people. Alec and Isabelle tread on ice until they figure out which Jace they've got.'

I looked at my reflection in the glass again. My eyes were light once more, and my skin had returned to its more tan look. 'You even look different sometimes. Scarier.' She continued, her voice low. 'Are you okay? We can ask the Silent Brothers about it while we're here.'

I kept my face turned towards the window. 'No. Brother Jeremiah would have said something if he noticed that there was something wrong with me. I'm a teenager; am I not suppose to hate the world and have violent mood swings?'

Clary didn't answer. I felt annoyance stir in the back of my head. I turned to her, expecting the subject to be discussed further. But Clary was biting her lip and looking at her hands.

'What?' I demanded.

She looked up, startled. Her face was paler than before and her eyes seemed huge. 'What are they going to do to me?' Her voice was horse.

The annoyance grew. Why was she so worried? Sure, maybe Brother Jeremiah had been rough with her mind, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good. The carriage turned a sharp corner and hit a bump, swinging Clary into me. I caught her lightly.

'Don't worry. They're just going to ask you some simple questions.' I promised as she moved back to her spot. Where had my irritation gone?

'Who would do this to me?' She whispered desperately, 'Why would someone do this?'

'We'll find out and go and kick the bastard's ass. You'll be fine.'

'What if it was Valentine? Jace, what if he had done something to me while-'

'Clary.' I said simply.

She gave a shuttering sigh. 'Jace.'

'Clary, calm down. If it is Valentine, we'll find him and kick his ass twice. No wait. Make that three times.'

'Why three?'

'Things are always better in threes; three holes in a shirt, three courses in a meal, three people in a threesome; the kicking of someone's ass should be any different. Besides, if I can kick his ass twice, might as well do it three times.'

Clary didn't laugh. 'What is he planning? What does the Cup do anyway?'

'It makes more Shadowhunters. If he has it now, it means he wants to make more.'

'Isn't there a Rune somewhere that would bind a Shadowhunter to the person who marked them?'

'Probably not. There wouldn't be a Mark that could be our down-fall.'

'Then could you make one?'

I just stared. 'The last person the make a new Rune was the same person who made the first one. And judging by what that Jonathan kid said, Valentine seems very suspicious of people right now. I doubt he'd want to use a Rune if it meant he could be betrayed. Runes can wear off or be rendered useless by sheer will power. I've done it myself.'

Clary thought on this 'So Valentine just wants to make himself a new army of loyal Shadowhunters. Then what?'

'He'll take over the world, I assume. Or maybe just a small state. Hawaii would be nice this time of year. Valentine probably just doesn't want to pay for his hotel. If he takes over the state, he won't have to pay for anything.'

'Seriously Jace.'

'Alicante then.' I shrugged. 'I'd want to be the king of the Shadowhunters myself, but I doubt they'd let me change the name to the 'Wayland fighters.'

Clary sighed, exasperated. 'Honestly Jace. Why is everything a joke?'

'I was trying to take your mind off things. Did it work?'

'... Yes. Thanks.'

'Anytime.' I muttered. Why had I gone through all that trouble for her?

'Why have we stopped?'

'Presumably because we have reached our destination.'

'The New York Marble Cemetery?' Clary wondered, 'But they stopped burying people in Manhattan a century ago because they ran out of room- didn't they?'

'The Bone City has been here longer than that.' I leaned over to open the door, and Clary flinched. Was she really that scared?

'You don't get a choice, do you?' I gave her a questioning look. 'About being a Shadowhunter. You can't just opt out.' She supplied.

The door swung open and the cooler air in the carriage was replaced by the sticky air from outside. 'No. But if I had a choice, this is still what I'd choose.'

'Why?' Clary asked. She didn't sound nosy, just curious.

'Because it's what I'm good at.' I muttered as I jumped out. Clary looked at the gap from her feet to the stones below. I held out a hand to help her but she didn't take it. She looked at me proudly when she didn't fall over.

'I would have helped you down.' I insisted.

Clary blinked. 'It's okay. You didn't have to.'

There was slight rustle from behind me, and I glanced behind me. The Brother had gotten down from his seat and was walking silently away from us. He cast no shadow as he walked.

_Come._ The silent command rung in my head. I gestured with my eyebrow and we followed him.

The darkness didn't bother me in the slightest, but Clary crept around like she was going to rob the place. Her steps echoed in against the grave markers slightly: the Brother and I made no sound as we walked. Jeremiah stopped in front of the entrance to the City, but Clary didn't. She yelled when she hit my back. I could hear her heart was racing. 'Don't screech like that.' I muttered, finding I was whispering myself, 'You'll wake the dead.'

She crossed her arms. 'Why are we stopping?'

I pointed. We had stopped a few feet from a man-sized statue of an angel holding a chalice. It was made from marble and the angel's expression was the usual expression; mysterious, beautiful and angry.

Clary leaned past me to read the inscription and date at the bottom. 'Is that meant to be the Mortal Cup?' she whispered.

I nodded. 'And that's the motto of the Nephilim- Shadowhunters- there on the base.'

Clary had her thinking face on. 'What does it mean?'

I grinned. 'It means ''Shadowhunters: Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of Our Enemies Since 1234.'''

'Jace-'Clary sighed.

_It means_ Jeremiah intoned, _The descent into Hell is easy._

'Nice and cheery.' Clary shivered, and I felt bad for mocking her.

'It's the Brother's little joke, having that here.' I explained. 'You'll see.'

I took a step back. Brother Jeremiah had taken out a stele while we were talking and was drawing a Rune on the statue's base. The angel's mouth dropped open, like she was screaming, the grass at her feet crumbled and a granite staircase descended into the black. Clary peered into the hole, but I could even couture the steps all the way down from where I was standing. There were various torches that lit the way, but the pool of light were limited to a small circle around the flame. No one had made a move to go down, so I did. I got to the first torch before I had to look back. Clary was still standing on the grass, terrified. 'Come on.' I hissed. Clary nodded slightly and took a step. I closed my eyes. I was annoyed again. It probably had something to do with the pounding headache that had just gotten worse. I hadn't noticed it when I had left the Institute, but I noticed it now. It felt like someone was driving a knife into my skull. I reached over and took a torch out of the bracket as Clary came practically running down the stairs. Clary looked slightly green, but it wasn't from the torch.

'Are you alright?' I asked.

She nodded like if she opened her mouth, she'd puke on my shoes. She took a shuddering breath and looked down the tunnel. I didn't know how far we were underground, but tree roots curled along the roof and the only light was from the flames.

'It's so... Dark.' she muttered. Her eyes flickered to me, and she jumped.

'What?' I demanded.

'Nothing.' She shook her head.

I shrugged and kept walking.

'Wait, Jace.' I stopped. 'She grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards her. 'Your eyes aren't reflecting any of the light.'

'So?'

She dropped it. 'Never mind.' She shivered again.

'Do you want me to hold your hand?' I asked, only slightly sarcastic.

Clary jerked her hand away from mine. She stood her ground. 'Don't talk down to me.'

'Well, I could hardly talk up to you. You're so short.'

I looked up from her to the Brother who had appeared over her shoulder. ' No need to stand on ceremony, Brother Jeremiah,' I stood aside so he could pass. 'Lead on. We'll follow.'

I moved Clary out of his way and the Brother kept walking. Her skin was clammy but warm.

_You should stop making excuses to touch her. _The Brother put in my head. _Or she'll begin to wonder why_.

_So what if she does?_ I fired back.

_There are things that are best to go untouched. _His voice sounded mysterious, like he knew something I didn't. I took a step towards the Brother, and Clary knocked my hand out of reach of hers. I heard a laugh dance through my head. I gritted my teeth but kept walking.

I had seen the Silent City before, but I felt an awe this time I hadn't the first time. Clary was certainly mesmerized by the arches. They looked like marble, but the memories of the dead that composed those arches were like ghosts; if I listened closely enough I could hear their final moments.

I kept my eyes looking ahead and my loose hand at my side. I hardly wanted to give our guide another opening for taunting.

'Jace?'

'Hm?'

'What's that?' Clary's voice echoed now, unlike in the tunnel. She hadn't stopped, but was going a lot slower.

'It's a mausoleum.' I moved the torch closer so she could see the Rune carved into the doors. The light of the flame danced on the sheen of the white marble, and I could see our reflections in it. 'It's a tomb. We bury our dead here.' I moved on before she could ask about my father. From her questions earlier, I knew she was still curious.

'All your dead?' I heard her murmur. She hurried after me, Jeremiah scaring her to my side. 'I thought you said this was a library.'

_There are many level to the Silent City._ The Brother interrupted. _And not all our dead are buried here. There is another ossuary in Idris, much larger of course. This level contains the mausoleums like this one and he place of burning._

'The place of burning?'

_Those who died in battle are burned. Their ashes are used to form the marble you see. The blood and bones of demon slayers are a powerful protection against evil. Even in death, the Clave serves its cause._

Clary winced at the thought. We walked farther, the tombs encasing us. Even Jeremiah's jibes had ceased.

We got to another set of stairs. Our guide didn't hesitate; but Clary did.

'The achieves and council rooms are on the second level.' I assured her. 'This will be the last set of stairs.'

'Where are the living quarters? Where do the Brothers sleep?' She whispered to me.

_Sleep? _The thought came from the Brother at the bottom of the stairs.

I laughed. 'You had to ask.'

We passed through another tunnel, this one made of the same marble as the arches. It opened into a square. The smell that hung around the Brothers, the smell of Runes, was heavy here. Probably because in the centre of the room, seated at a long table, was the Council. The Sword was mounted on the wall behind them menacingly. Jeremiah sat down among his brethren and Clary looked at me. A gave a small shake of the head and she walked forward onto the Speaking Stars. I leaned against the wall and waited. Clary was talking, and seemed to be telling them off. I chuckled; leave it to Clary. I felt an increasing pressure in the room: they had started. I looked at Clary and found her hands tightly clenched, her body twisted away from them slightly and her eyes were shut. The pressure kept getting stronger. I closed my eyes in a reflex. The headache had been replaced with a full on migraine. Lights danced before my eyes. I opened them and the Council room had disappeared.

I was looking at a funeral pyre. I looked around and felt a alight vertigo. I was shorter and my hands weren't marked and scared with battle. I was nine again. I walked towards the man dressed in white. The Silent Brother's voice rumbled in my head. I looked at the man's face. His eyes were covered by coins, and he was blindfolded by white silk. I looked for clues as to who this man could be. I saw a ring on his finger: a family ring. I picked up his hand and the ring fell off his finger and rolled onto the floor. I couldn't believe it. The ring had been the Wayland family ring. But the man on the pyre was jot my father. The ring fit perfectly on my Father's finger. The ring had fallen off this man's hand. Technically, the ring had been passed on to me, last week I had gotten I for my birthday, but it was customary for the dead member of the family to wear it during their burning. So why was this imposter wearing it?

'Excuse me.' I walked up to a man, his back turned to me. 'There's been a mistake. That man is not my father.'

The man turned. It was the one who had been at my house, who had told me my father was dead in the first place. ' Jonathan,' He sighed, 'There is no mistake. He is your father.'

'No!' I was getting frustrated; why would I lie about something like this? 'My father is bigger than that. He has a scar on his hand; the man on that pyre doesn't.'

The man grabbed my arm and half walked, half dragged me over to the side of the room. 'Jonathan, that man is your father. Stop asking questions and pay your final respects.'

'To a man that isn't my father?' I asked coldly, 'I wouldn't know what to say.'

The older man slapped me. 'Shut up and do as you're told.'

Wanting to preserve my dignity, I walked over to the corpse. I could hear the man muttering to himself.

'Geez. Valentine had said he'd wouldn't cause any problems. So much for fooling the kid.'

I bent down like I was going to kiss the dead man's forehead, but I kept my head low and tried to figure out what the man meant. Valentine? He must have been that one who killed my father. I felt my blood boil. I had to avenge my father; I had to kill Valentine. I found the ring and put it on again. It would be a constant reminder of my mission. I kept listening to the man; he was speaking to someone.

'The boy knows. What should I do?' The first man asked.

'it doesn't matter. He won't remember this anyway, not without assistance. Just keep him quiet until the body is burned.'

The first man nodded and started to walk towards me.

'Oh, and Blackwell?' Blackwell stopped and turned. 'You'd better keep on your toes. Valentine is on the drug again. If you even mention this to him, he'll kill you.'

'Right. Better keep this between us then.' Blackwell started walking towards me again, and I stood.

'Ready Jonathan?' He asked. 'I'll get the torch.'

The Silent Brother came over with the torch.

_Please begin._ He voice sounded in my head.

I set the flame to the corpse's white silk covering and stepped back. The whole thing soon caught. Through the curtain of flames, I could have sworn I saw my father leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed. He was smiling.

A wave of pain shot throughout my head as I heard a scream and I sunk to the ground. When my knees touched the ground, the flames of the pyre once again became the torches of the council room. My eyes were out of focus and the room spun. Who had screamed. A red blur caught my attention. I stumbled over and knelt down. It was Clary. The red wasn't from her hair thought. It was from the slowly growing pool of blood.


End file.
